Blog Archives - High Desert Art

High Desert Art

Walker

7/30/2016

*Andrei Belichenko*

Walker

The
Beauteous
Japanese
Girl
Passes
By,
Catching
My
Eye
With
Her
Colors,
Then
Blends
Into
A
Flowered
Hue
Behind
A
Tree.
I go
To
Another
Window
To
See
Today’s
Sumptuous
Finery,
But
She
Chooses
Another
Way,
And
Turns
The
Corner
To
Display
Her
Asiatic
Caparison
Along
The
Next
Street,
And
They
Will
Get
The
Visual
Treat.
For
All
That,
I glimpsed
Parts
Of
A
Sweet
Dress
And
Hat
In
Her
Retreat,
Tiny
Red
Slippers
On
Her
Oriental
Feet.

Dawn

7/28/2016

Dawn

The
Jet
Liner
Breaks
Through
Cloud,
Ferrying
A
Crowd
Of
Blessed
Souls
From
East
To
West.
A
Hollow
Silver
Ship
Of
Stately
Worth,
She
Slips
To
Earth
Ending
A
Fragile
Metallic
Trip,
A
Red
Eyed
Flight
That
Has
Conquered
Night.

Cache

7/26/2016

Cache

In
A
Carton
Of
Faded
Photographs,
I hear
Again
His
Quiet
Laugh.
I am
A
Willing
Slave
To
All
I save,
Half
Forgotten
Smiles,
Seen
On
Journeys
Of
A
Million
Miles,
Faces
And
Places
And
Hidden
Spaces
Once
More
Come
Into
View,
As
Such
Things
Do,
If
You
Look
Into
A
Box
Of
Faded
Photographs.

Midsummer

7/24/2016

Midsummer

The
Trees
Tremble
In
The
Heat,
Asphalt
Softens
In
The
Street.
No
Clouds
Come
And
No
Rain
To
Ease
The
Strain.
The
Mountain
Heaves
A
Rocky
Sigh,
The
Brushy
Sage
Goes
Dry,
Mourning
Doves
Cry,
As
We
Wait
For
July
To
Pass
Us
By.

Passage

7/22/2016

*Journey To Madrid* Oil On Linen 20" H X 24" W

Passage

When
I was
Young
And
Wise,
I loved
To
Watch
The
Sun
Rise,
Rainbow
Skies
Aglow.
Now
I am
Older
And
A
Fool
Having
Scant
Repose,
Fonder
Of
Watching
It
Descend
Toward
Day’s
End
And
The
Evening
Close.

Trio

7/20/2016

*Chamber Trio* Hyatt Moore

Trio

They
Exist,
The
Violin,
Violoncello
And
Piano,
In
Perfect
Harmony,
To
Blend
Beyond
Emotion’s
End,
In
Music
That
Time
Does
Not
Rescind.
They
Are
No
Other
Than
One
Another,
Conjuring
What
We
Cannot
See,
Love
Coming
To
Be.

Rising Action

7/18/2016

Rising Action

Sunlight,
Cloud
Shattered
Into
Flakes,
Makes
A
Mosaic
Of
My
Breakfast
Table
As
I,
Prosaic
As
Can
Be,
Drink
Diamonds
In
My
Tea.

Evening Song

7/16/2016

*Jane Peterson* Woman Reading

Evening Song

Laughter
Brittle
As
Winter,
Anecdotes
Creased
With
Handling,
Bold
Tales
Retold,
Form
The
Domain
Of
The
Old.
I see
Them
In
The
Café
Dwindling
Away
The
Last
Of
The
Day
Without
Excuse.
They
Have
More
Of
Use
To
Say,
And
Unlike
Me,
The
Coming
Closing
Hour
No
Longer
Carries
Power.

Racer

7/14/2016

*Harold Braul*

Racer

The
Cyclist
Speeds
Past,
A
Spinning
Jet
In
Taut
Athletic
Gear,
Straining,
Pumping
Sweat,
Soaking
Wet,
He
Performs
For
Those
Standing
Near,
Dripping
Honey
I can
Smell
From
Here.

Dearth

7/12/2016

Dearth

This
Desert
July
Is
Parched
Dry,
No
Full
Moon
Monsoon.
We
Scan
The
Sky
For
Clouds
Passing
By
A
Thousand
Miles
High,
Reckon
What
The
Wind
Portends,
If
The
Cold
Front
Will
Stay,
Or
The
Mountain
Will
Drive
It
Away.
Every
Day
We
Drily
Maintain,
And
Long
For
Rain.