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74Poem: Beaver
by barranca
The Beaver and the Flyfisherman It's a standoff And the Beaver is Pissed off. The Flyfisherman sees a likely deep pool behind the lodge but The Beaver sees an Intruder. The war begins with a sudden loud... published 16 months ago
70Poem: The Forest
by barranca
The Forest The loggers leave a path: mud streaks, hewn branches, stumps, scarred trees, boulders askew- marks left as if a titan has been dragged screaming through the forest. The formerly peaceful walk... published 16 months ago
68Poem: Aging
by barranca
The slightly deaf Ringing ears itch, The gray, slightly Dim eyes blur and water, The feet ache. The hair fades and balds, The joints stiffen. The nose is ripped, The lungs ooze ... published 14 months ago
65My three guns
by barranca
This is one for my friends in the national rifle association and any similar romantic gun nuts. My Three Guns I have owned three guns in my day. The first was a Crossman pellet gun passed down from an... published 16 months ago
61Poem: Dignity at the End
by barranca
Dignity at the End After sixteen years you had Had enough Of the aching bones Forced baths, shivering Greasy water and grinding pellets With rotten teeth. The rumors and late night whispers Had started, The... published 16 months ago
60Winter Reverie
by barranca
On the first day of vacation the frosty damp snow, falls and covers the drab, leftover snow and ice, the trees are newly enameled with white calm. The pot of coffee offers a particularly pleasing obscure... published 14 months ago
59Poem: Pheasants
by barranca
Six cock and two hen pheasants block the gravel road like Robin Hood's highwaymen, they are a proud band unintimidated by the grumbling metal monster which grinds up demanding passage. All in good... published 16 months ago
59Poem: Hospital View
by barranca
The houses huddle In the foggy winter morning Around the outlying Parking lots of the hospital on the hill, Like vassals camped outside The Lord’s castle, Awaiting his judgments... published 15 months ago
58Poem: While fishing for trout
by barranca
While Fishing for Trout You don't notice as bugs drill for blood on the back of your neck leaving a series of welts like prayer beads, while you concentrate on the next rainbow published 16 months ago
58Chile Poem
by barranca
Morning clouds hang low streaking the horizon between lake and mountains. Beneath the snow-glossed volcano, fuchsia blossoms float with scarlet sails on the jade-green lake. Trout and salmon cruise the... published 16 months ago
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