On the Way to Canyonlands

 

 

 

Not the red rock

per se

but the wildflowers

at their base.

A vase

of globe mallow

black-eyed Susan

and lupine

poured

orange, maze, perse

onto the gore-skirted earth.

 

As if crazed Van Gogh,

painting the arid scape,

dabs

frantically dabs

dabs the canvas

under the trumpeting sun.

 

But it is

the flowers themselves

that blare,

dabbing our senses

even as we round the bend

luring us with

unheard words,

yellow and orange,

captivating us

with whole stories

bursting to be told.

 

 

After working in advertising and teaching for many years, Sherrill Alesiak decided to devote time to her own writing. She was inspired by her grandson to write children's stories, two of which are under consideration. However, she remains loyal to her poetry and fiction, which have appeared in many publications such as Alligator Juniper, Blueline, Princeton Arts Review, 2 River View, The Kerf, The MacGuffin, and The Owen Wister Review.