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Friday, January 15, 2010

On January 12 Medus'a Kitchen published the following



WINTER IN THE SACRAMENTO VALLEY


(For Joyce Odam)


The winters here are mostly damp.

The days are grey. They form a camp.

A great and endless fog commands,

All thick and dense, a gauzy stamp.


This weather makes its own demands.

The days are ghosts with oak tree hands.

The morning and the evening change

Without a sound, their cold, white plans.


There is no landscape. All is strange,

Fog cattle grazing shadow range.

There is little here of any sun

To make a mark or rearrange.


A cloistered time. Each day a nun.

A silent time. A seamless one.

We speak another language; one

That quiets time, as days pass, stunned.


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