Walking along a Tributary near a Quarry
One Mile West of Minkler, CA
I stand in the shallows near the Crockett waterfront.
My calves shine. March breathes hot against the cool
water. The King’s River scatters its tributaries over
tortoise stone. Streams that snake around this tarweed
meadow sometimes swarm with siege of blue heron,
still, staring at the cold current for crawfish & delta
smelt, stealthy in their attack, silent as wind through
window screens. My hands sometimes sweat streams
through the shallow canyons of my palms. My little
rivers bend the same way I imagine this one does
when looked at from above. The hand of this valley
is light brown like mine, the other side coal, dark
as night with no moon. When all lights are turned off,
air thins, lamps dim, & the canary is the first to go.
Ronald Dzerigian received his M.F.A. from California State University, Fresno. His poems have appeared in the Australian Book Review, Comstock Review, Prairie Schooner, RHINO, Salamander, and others. His first full-length collection Rough Fire is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press. He resides in a small farming community with his wife and two daughters.