Author Topic: La Shangra  (Read 6844 times)


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La Shangra
« on: April 25, 2019, 06:53:12 AM »
This is the final version of a poem I edited several times over a period of a few years--not an unusual length of time for me.

La Shangra

Past San Elijo to the east,
in a V where distant foothills meet,
I am certain a small town nestles,
blended into ocher rock-striations,

the surrounding landscape laced
with laquer-red manzanita branches,
ribbon trees, deep green pine
and clear air wafted
with warmed desert spices.

No road goes there so the dwellers
are self-sufficient, tend gardens
of carrots, corn, lettuce,
grow colorful gourds
to decorate for holiday celebrations.

They run out of their quarters
to look up when a jet plane flies over.
None of them remembers
life before the crash, though
some experience flashbacks
to three-bedroom houses,
yards and home theaters.

They do what they can
for one another
with medicinal herbs and old remedies,
play made-up games, recite litanies
and are content to live without expectations.

I want to go there some day
but the sun is hot
and it would be a long walk.