Sunday Ramble
With sun at my back
I follow my shadow along the trail
through dry meadow.
Low shrubs and long grasses
whisper crisp secrets.
Singular crow complains.
Sycamore limbs shed
nearly all their leaves
in gold quilts around trunks,
brittle shoals across narrow lane.
Horses’ hooves have puckered
the path with lucky charm divots.
Bare branches reach out to embrace
blue and white winter sky.
Subtle shades of umber and rust
render a pasture in sepia tones,
not unlike the elusive blemish
of a long-forgotten memory.
Laura Bayless lives in Carmel Valley, is the author of four collections of poetry. Her poems have appeared in many local and national publications. She has participated in seven Women’s Voices readings at the Carl Cherry Center in Carmel and multiple Women and Food poetry presentations on the Monterey Peninsula. She is an Associate Editor of the Monterey Poetry Review.
With sun at my back
I follow my shadow along the trail
through dry meadow.
Low shrubs and long grasses
whisper crisp secrets.
Singular crow complains.
Sycamore limbs shed
nearly all their leaves
in gold quilts around trunks,
brittle shoals across narrow lane.
Horses’ hooves have puckered
the path with lucky charm divots.
Bare branches reach out to embrace
blue and white winter sky.
Subtle shades of umber and rust
render a pasture in sepia tones,
not unlike the elusive blemish
of a long-forgotten memory.
Laura Bayless lives in Carmel Valley, is the author of four collections of poetry. Her poems have appeared in many local and national publications. She has participated in seven Women’s Voices readings at the Carl Cherry Center in Carmel and multiple Women and Food poetry presentations on the Monterey Peninsula. She is an Associate Editor of the Monterey Poetry Review.
