Blog Archives - High Desert Art

High Desert Art

Rockstar

2/28/2021

The
Easy,
Liquid
Voice
Now
Has
A
Crack.
In
The
Years
That
Have
Passed,
He’s
Lost
Track
Of
How
Long
The
Band
Has
Repeated
The
Song,
Every
Note
That
He
Wrote
Still
Ringing
True
To
Those
Hearing
It
Anew.
But
The
Flame
Has
Grown
Colder
As
He
Grew
Older,
And
There’s
No
Way
Back
Again
To
When,
Fame
Smitten
And
Juicy
Young,
A
Thousand
Heartfelt
Dreams
Clamored
To
Be
Written
And
Sung.

Real Life

2/26/2021

*Nymph* Hans Heyerdahl

Politics
Is
The
Art
Of
Compromise,
But
The
Republicans,
With
Their
Tattered
Lies
Unfurled,
Hurl
Nasty
Insults
And
Vitriol
At
Whomever
Dares
To
Say
They
Are
Looking
The
Blasted
Wrong
Way.
They
Cheat
And
They
Steal
To
Such
A
Degree
It
Becomes
Unreal,
Shocking
The
Country,
Including
Me,
Until
My
Sensibilities
Are
Curled
Up
Tight,
And
I’m
Glad
I Write,
Sheltered
In
My
Invented
World.

Slight Breeze

2/24/2021

*A Summer Afternoon* 12" H X 10" W Oil On Linen

The
Fragrant
Taste
Of
Being
Young
Lingers
On
The
Tongue,
Savored
In
This
Later
Sun,
Or
In
A
Song
Recalled
From
Long
Ago.
We
Must
Wait
For
Time
To
Illuminate
Scenes
One
Could
Not
Then
Appreciate,
But
In
A
Fleeting
Moment
Of
Reflection,
The
Recollection
Comes,
A
Wisp
Of
Scented
Youth,
Seen
At
Last
In
Its
Humble
Truth.

Voice Mail

2/22/2021

*Man Talking And Not Talking* Helen Colledge

“Hello,”
He
Muttered,
With
A
Shudder
In
His
Tone.
“You
Were
On
My
Mind.
It’s
Hard,
I Find,
To
Consider
Myself
A
Winner,
All
Alone
With
A
TV
Dinner.
I’m
Solitarily
Confined,
And
Wearing
My
Mask
Is
A
Burdensome,
Necessary,
Task,
But
Gee,
Where
Is
The
Rogue
I Used
To
Be?
I Wish
Somebody
Out
There
Was
Close
To
Me,
Near
Enough
To
Touch
And
See.
Well,
I Try.
Feeling
Lonesome,
Is
All.
Give
Me
A
Call.
Bye.”

Remembrance

2/20/2021

The
Ancient
Backyard
Apple
Tree
Bloomed
Lavishly
One
May,
A
Thing
Of
Grace,
Then
The
Next
Winter
Froze
In
The
Cold
And
Died,
I Was
Told.
Tree
Men
Did
Not
Cut
It
Down,
But
To
My
Dismay,
Wrenched
It
From
The
Ground
And
Hauled
It
Away.
For
Ages
After,
Every
Spring,
Bright
Shoots
Grew
Up
From
Living
Roots,
And
I Still
Mourn
The
Loss
Of
Dappled
Shade
The
Apple
Tree
Made.

Forecast: Snow

2/18/2021

*Photo By Elizabeth Collins*

In
This
Elastic
Winter,
Stalked
By
Death,
We
Draw
Apart,
To
Guard
Our
Heart
And
Every
Precious
Breath.
This
Trial
Will
Pass,
I Know,
And
Fondly
Hope
That
We
Can
Grow,
Now
That
We
Surely
Know
Life
Is
A
Fragile
Dream,
Soon
Lost
In
A
Vagrant
Sunbeam.

Hiatus

2/16/2021

The
Tulips
And
The
Iris
Sleep
Beneath
Snow
Drifted
Deep
In
The
Flower
Beds,
And
Like
Hope,
They
Are
Never
Dead.
When
Winter
And
Its
Cold
And
Gloom
Depart,
They
Will
Rise
And
Bloom
To
Fill
My
Heart
With
Every
Pretty
Thing
Of
Spring.

Valentine's Day

2/14/2021

The
Polar
Vortex
Flows
Down
In
A
Sparkling
Gown
Of
Frost,
And
Ices
The
North
Land
With
An
Arctic
Hand.
Down
Here,
She
Shows
A
Lace
Edged
Petticoat
Of
Snow,
As
Sixty
Mile
An
Hour
Winds
Blow
Through
The
Canyon
And
Across
The
Hills,
In
Frills
Of
Frozen
Chills.

Late

2/12/2021

I’ve
Fallen
Behind
In
The
Daily
Grind.
The
Taxes
Must
Be
Done,
But
Feeble
Strength
Relaxes.
My
Canvas
Begins
To
Cry
When
I Pass
By,
But
I Have
This
Writing
Task
To
Complete,
And
It’s
Beyond
Sweet,
Lord
Knows,
To
Push
The
Chores
Away
And
Spend
The
Day
Immersed
In
Prose.

Greetings

2/11/2021

These
Days,
What’s
Missing
Is
Sufficient
Kissing.
Give
Somebody
A
Hug,
And
Die
Of
The
Bug,
Plus
You’re
A
Sap
To
Cross
That
Six
Foot
Gap.
I’m
Getting
The
Vaccine
This
Afternoon,
And
Will
Be
Safe
Pretty
Soon.
I’ll
Be
Coming
Around,
Feeling
Fine,
Meantime,
Will
You
Be
My
Valentine?