Sandra Tanhauser: California Poets Part 7, Three Poems
Sandra Tanhauser
July 1st, 2024
California Poets: Part VII
Sandra Tanhauser
Three Poems
One Summer
Hills rise above Glendora touching the smoggy air
Rolling, dry, studded with rocky outcrops
Native grasses, sage and cactus
There my best friend and I discovered
Three half-wild horses –
with hooves overgrown and untrimmed
disheveled coats and shaggy manes.
We were high school freshman with ponytails and jeans
just emerging from childhood, adventurous and
simmering with energy. We brought them apples, carrots,
made braided harnesses and rope leads.
We climbed those hills to look for them
and they came to us gladly.
We led them around, brushing their unkempt coats
rubbing their ears
caressing their necks
their breath through distended nostrils, hot on our hands.
We loved the fluidity, the beauty of those animals.
Like birds on the wind, we wanted to ride that power.
But we took our time, spent
weeks that summer visiting, seducing, calming.
Then I led the brown one, with the white blaze
to a flat rock.
I climbed on slowly, carefully.
Suddenly I was airborne, tumbling backward
and hit the ground six inches from
the needled hands of a full grown cactus.
Hunting for the Past
Together we enter the forest where our memories, like
mycelium, lay buried for decades.
Hunting for the mushroom flowers that sprout
and open like an echo
revealing the moments of color and perfume, the taste, the
texture of our past.
Together we choose the ones we savor most
The brownish red Boletes growing by the streams, as boldly
as we lived our lives
The Morels with wrinkled undulating heads, deeply engaged
and intertwined, attached to smooth cream stalks
in the clearing,
The bright saffron orange Lobster Mushroom hidden under
pine needles, shining out loud with the joy we felt.
The pink or yellow Cauliflower fungus branching cheerfully,
like coral under pines, with all the laughter we shared.
Together we gather the golden clustered Honey Mushroom
on fallen logs, soft with our tenderness or the creamy white
Oysters, creatively sprouting beautiful umbrellas from tree
stumps,
Finally, the deeply passionate Clitocybes, violet or blue, on
leaves or grass with the essence of anise.
Of course we are much older now and have the wisdom
to examine the scent, the color and texture of what we were,
what we felt
to cradle each image making sure it is meaningful and real.
Together we choose the ones that are safe to share
We avoid the mind altering ones, the poisonous ones.
And ... as we enter the field that divided us, searching for
the joys, laughter and warmth of our love, we step very,
very carefully
to avoid the landmines.
Maybe it was
Maybe it was the carousel
On the pier, with the horses going
Up and down Up and down
or the pier itself jutting far out into
the sea clad with mussels on
each ocean leg.
Maybe it was the cliffs capped with houses
rising from the pebbled northern shore,
or the beach the waves washed with
whispers or the people gathered to
sit and listen to the honesty of the ocean,
the certainty of the sun.
Or maybe it was the nights we spent
preparing to speak, words that
could only come from rhyme and music
surging through us
with urgency but without bidding
All the nights we gathered to listen,
to hear the poetry that told a different
story in Venice Beach, Ocean Park
to the beat of traffic, clamor of the city, hard and fluorescent
real and gritty, sensual in unauthorized ways.
Maybe it was the honesty, those words that laid
everything bare.
Author Bio:
Sandra Tanhauser first started writing poetry in the early 1970’s when she lived in the Santa Monica/Venice Beach area. The artistic scene then centered around small bookstores and Beyond Baroque which was a venue for poetry readings and other artistic performances. She had a number of poems published in Bachy and Momentum, both local small press publications. After retirement from a career in IT, she returned to writing and has been very involved with poetry scene at the Sacramento Poetry Center. Several of her recent poems have been published in Voices 2022, 2023, and 2024. She finds poetry a beautiful avenue for expressing the essence of the soul.
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