RITES OF EXTREME UNCTION FOR MONO LAKE

RITES OF EXTREME UNCTION FOR MONO LAKE

In these unadorned camelid hills, ancient 

clam beds seek absolution from baked adobe 

while unseasonable green fountains of corn 

suck water from this desert oasis. 

Sacrament. This morning, the priest wore 

an alb and the purple robes of penitence,

as he offered up the blood of the earth,

the palms give voice to parched santana winds. 

Grapes from Chile at two dollars a pound; 

the price of water from Chilean earth 

3,000 miles south of this desert where 

campesinos struggle for the dailiness of bread.

And in the north, an ancient lake 

 is dying of thirst so a garden may grow. 

What is the color of forgiveness 

when mirages of real water slick the surface?

Easter 1983?  It may be 82
Bakersfield

1984 Napa Poetry Review
         Poets of the Vineyard, First Honorable Mention

                

first draft

RITES OF EXTREME UNCTION FOR MONO LAKE 

On Interstate 5, slumbering camel-hills of Tracy 

hide hammocks and date palms in their folds. 

The only sound interrupting the afternoon solitude 

is the soaring desert wind rustling through the trees. 

In the unadorned essence of these central valley hills, 

ancient clam beds seek absolution.

I'm eating grapes from Chile at two dollars a pound; 

the price of water from Chilean earth

!3,000 miles south of this desert.
Sacrament. 

This morning, the priest wore an alb 

and the purple robes of penitence.

In this fasting desert, I am clothed in purple. 

The valley is blanketed with wefts of veridian rows.

In the desert blooming with northern water,

green fountains of corn sprout up. 

And in the north, an ancient lake is slowly dying. 

In this desert, what is the color of forgiveness 

when mirages of real water slick the surface?

Another ascii save...

jpgs added 10/16; I think the short v. is the original. But still not sure of the date as long and short versions exist on the same page.

Slumbering hills of Tracylike sleeping series of camels
hammocks and date palms
the sound rustling through the trees
The priest wears the alb
and the purple vestments of forgiveness.
All my clothes are purple
maybe I'm seeking absolution

I'm eating grapes from Chile
water from Chilean earth
sacrament.

These central valley hills
unadorned in their bare essence
Clam beds ancient burrowed in the hills
covered by a weft of green drops
green fountains of corn sprouting up
the desert blooms with northern water
mirages of real water slick the surface

8/ 82