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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & Owner
Ray Rasmussen, General Editor

Volume 11, Number 1, March 2017
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Amelia Fielden
Canberra, Australian Capital Territory, Australia


Frost at the Vineyard

It seems I have had to travel a very long way to make peace with my situation at home. Back there the summer heat has already begun. Here in northern California russet and gold autumn lingers in the trees while a light frost spikes underfoot. The sky is a wide, blue wash. A myriad of tiny white-crowned sparrows are darting to and fro, foraging in piles of black loam.

across the world
my love is lost in himself—
I lift my face
to the winter sun
this season of acceptance

A piebald pony grazes on the still-wet grass. White goats lie folded in the fields. The road our tour takes follows bold river curves, then slides under the shade of giant redwoods.

the great forest
is never silent,
simply quiet
like a contemplative mind
gently sifting its issues

An hour later we see Russian River, broad and blue, joining the tumult of the Pacific Ocean.

Rising through salt spray, hawks wheel sidewards in the ferocious wind. I retreat to the other side of the dunes, sit on a driftwood log, and write in my journal.

brown pelicans
of California,
white pelicans
of my distant country . . .
at night I dream of wings

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