Vernita
Poetry by local writer and poet Mark Clemons
East of Yakima
Flocks of black birds
Wheel above the freeway,
Scatter over blood brown
Orchards broke by vineyards,
Dust green groves of oak
And hills gone mauve with sunset,
Their shoulders...
Villanelle
In idle moments I am prone
To searches labyrinthian;
I spend too much time on my phone.
Squandered, the minutes I’m alone,
In googling facts quotidian.
In idle moments,...
A red cow | the high white hills
Image generated by Al Bergstein using Microsoft's CoPilot
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