Matanzas field trip fragments
Bradley brings wax from the mission to the house of Vallejo.
Spring arrives, sporadic cold growling in the shadows.
Luis tells Nicholas, if you kiss a frog that’ll give somebody words.
A small newt slithering to sneakehood in the slow evolutionary crawl.
Small boys squeal and tease scorpions from under small rocks.
Lupine turns field blue in anticipation of evening.
Children gather locust pods, feel they have gained a fortune.
Mikey tells me of the speckled trout he knows in a pool below Spring Lake.
One kid, zippered up backwards in his coat, patiently waits for all this to end.
In the barn, wicker willow cages, rawhide strips, harnesses.
Blue Willow plates, a massive bowl carved out of a single tree.
Stone mills, tule elk skulls, graceful curved horns.
A coyote pelt on the wall, facing nose down.
3/14/88
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