Dandelion seed head blowing in wind

Four Poems by Wendy Videlock

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Poverty Gulch

The light that is cast from an amber bead
makes me believe in Poverty Gulch
and Busted Flats, in seeds of trauma

and saltwater saunas, in Little Books
and Black Canyon, in Paradox Valley
and Mendicant Mountain, in brokers that broker

and ogres that ogre, in self destruction
and getting sober. From mala beads
discovered in a Chevy Impala

to Joe Cocker haunting the halls
of Crawford to the stories delivered
from the open heart’s chamber

I’ve come to believe holy are
these winds blowing through Whitewater.





Watching the moon her mood turned

from black to blue
to wholly new

and back again
as only moons
            are wont to do.




Yield Signs

Just as winter surrenders
                  to spring and summer
succumbs to fall

we finally come to yield
   to a milkweed
                       and dandelion lawn.





What if all the parts of me,
from the ancient
to the twee, from the formal
to the free, from the jester
to the brooder, from the scholar
to the woo
woo healer,
from the salt
            water spring
to the old forest
were not just integrated
                         but reconciled…




Wendy VidelockAward-winning poet Wendy Videlock serves as Colorado’s Western Slope Poet Laureate. She lives at the edge of a canyon in Palisade with her husband and their various critters. Her works appear widely and her books are available where books are sold.

Read two poems by Wendy Videlock previously appearing in

Header photo by Romolo Tavani, courtesy Shutterstock. is the first online literary journal of place, publishing award-winning literature, art, editorials, and community case studies since 1998.