David Chorlton
Ahwatukee AM
The turkey vulture flying low
along the street this morning casts a graceful
shadow on the asphalt. The light
of the world balanced on its wings, a slight
dip left, another right, the work
of cleaning up has just begun. Sunlight
in its feathers, embers
in each eye it moves with such purpose the mountain
each day brings to life
stands back to give more room. It doesn’t need
a password to log in
to information posted in the clouds
pertaining to souls
the owl coughed up at night.
A peaceful time. The heartbeat of high noon
is bright and slow, the West
is still the West beneath
the city’s laws and order. Coyotes
patrolling the sky, a hundred degrees and rising,
another day, more hair and bones
discarded by the stars.
Sunday Grey
The Sunday sky is whispering light,
cloud down to desert
where the last rains sing
inside each saguaro standing. A few degrees
below where it hurts
to be outside, time for the mountain
to reveal its inner life. Rocks know all
about the standoff on the west side,
wildfire to the north
and a number to call for help. Come and go,
ebb and flow, siren crying out; is anybody
home? For whom does the bell
toll today? Which channel
has the friendly forecast? One
with showers all month long
and somebody to answer
when the call comes in. Please hold,
the sun is only resting. We appreciate your patience.
Call back when a storm breaks,
lightning is above the law.
Secret Trail
Overlapping planes of sun and shadow
on a day addressing
the issues that concern stones
and the boulder lodged
above an arroyo once
discovered, twice lost,
three times found as a refuge
from wheeling and dealing with two
for one and one for all, fifty dollars
for a soul and ask your doctor
whether it’s safe to walk here
amid dragonfly light and the dust
fallen from overnight stars
where a trail sews foothills to the mountain.
David Chorlton has lived in Phoenix since 1978 when he moved from Vienna, Austria, with his wife. Born in Austria, he grew up in Manchester, close to rain and the northern English industrial zone. In his early 20s he went to live in Vienna and from there enjoyed many trips around Europe. In Arizona, he has grown ever more fascinated by the desert and its wildlife. As much as he loves the Southwest, he has strong memories of Vienna, and that city is the setting for his one work of fiction: The Taste of Fog, from Rain Mountain Press. Selected Poems, appeared in 2014 from FutureCycle Press, and The Bitter Oleander Press published Shatter the Bell in my Ear, translations of poems by Austrian poet Christine Lavant.