Cenizo Journal Summer 2016 | Page 10

poetry Julia Kennedy Kirkland, Larry D. Thomas and Jim Wilson Landscape of My Father The Tinaja He smiled then, knowing there were clouds snagged in his hair, slate mountain streams reflected in his eyes, desert grit silted between his toes. Rocky crags formed in the rifts of his knuckles, the hoof beats of a stag echoed in his pulse, a blue-gold arid sunrise spread wide across his heart, and the harsh cry of all creation sounded a wild orchestra in his soul. This was his salvation. This, his benediction. This, his home. Nestled in the ancient, shrine-like rock of Hancock Hill, it sparkles by Julia Kennedy Kirkland in the primeval darkness. Is it the lost silver coin of a god? Or the stars, banished from the cosmos, assembling in their secret, rock-solid sanctuary and dropping to their knees, for worship? Javelinas Tusks glint in starlight like shards of sun-bleached bones. Swollen by the presence of feral hogs, the herd’s passage down the arroyo will jar the darkness with a distant rumble, loudening as it descends the shuddering flanks of Hancock Hill, by Larry D. Thomas raging like a black flash flood to churn the stone- still pondering of the water. by Larry D. Thomas 10 Cenizo Third Quarter 2016