Tyson West
Saint Augustine Intertidal
I never thought
I would most miss the aspen
who slipped into slivers of springs
quivering green my semi-desert scrubland, seeming isolates,
far from cottonwood cousins
across the hegemony of ponderosa pine.
Here ponds and saw palmetto conceal alligator and moccasin
white feathered ibis and heron
whose beaks boil into water for their slices of life.
Rock doves scatter white siftlings on green
patina of bronze Confederate generals and conquistadors.
My kinsmen, Canada geese, alien here as I,
who graze sawgrass swamp margins,
post one sentry head up eyes open
to sudden movement.
Bio
Tyson West has published speculative fiction and poetry in free verse, form verse and haiku distilled from his mystical relationship with noxious weeds and magpies in Eastern Washington. He has no plans to quit his day job in real estate.