All Categories - High Desert Art

High Desert Art

Inoculated: Continued

3/7/2021

*Calm* 3 3/4" H X 2 5/8" W Cast Bronze

Day
Two
Bears
Review.
I Was
Okay,
But
As
I Worked,
Symptoms
Lurked.
A
Range
Of
Icy
Chills
Moved
Over
My
Skin,
And
I Sensed
A
Great
Fatigue
Begin.
I Tried
To
Make
It,
But
With
A
Distant
Ache
In
My
Head,
I Gave
Up
And
Exhausted,
Went
To
Bed.
My
Anti-
Bodies
Are
In
A
Spin,
As
They
Begin
To
Occupy
My
Brain,
And
Only
A
Slight
Pain
For
Me
To
Remain
Virus
Free.

Inoculated

3/6/2021

*Change* 3 7/8" H X 2 1/4" W Cast Bronze

Yesterday,
I’m
Glad
To
Say,
I Got
My
Second
Vaccine
Shot.
Hopefully,
This
Will
Urge
The
Bod
To
Resist
The
Deadly
Scourge.
A
Handsome
Fireman
Gave
Me
The
Poke
While
Trading
A
Joke,
I Put
On
My
Hat,
Came
Back
Home,
And
That
Was
That.
It
Was
All
As
Easy
As
Frozen
Pie,
And
Now
I Won’t
Die.

Beneath

3/4/2021

The
Neighbor’s
Yard
Is
A
Panoply
Of
Hard
Stones
And
Random
Bones
Of
Railroad
Ties.
The
Metamorphic
Rocks
Emerged
In
Some
Primeval
Time,
Only
To
Merge
Into
The
Fellow’s
Homely
Verge.
In
The
Barren,
Rocky
Bower,
Not
A
Weed,
No
Nascent
Seed,
Or
Flower
Grows,
And
What
It
Covers,
Possibly,
His
Two
Dead
Lovers,
No
One
Knows.

New Day

3/2/2021

*Smith Apple 3* 10" H X 8" W Acrylic On Canvas

Lately,
I’m
Doing
The
Work
Alone,
Tensing
The
Muscle
To
Lift
The
Bone,
Grapple
To
Paint
A
Golden
Apple,
To
Raise
The
Window
And
Open
The
Gate,
Move
Fast
Enough
To
Evade
My
Fate,
And
More
Than
Ever,
Determined
To
Win,
Begin
Again.

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.