Genie's PocketOctober 2011
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Herd

Pacific Gas and Electric Trail,
Diablo Canyon, California

When PG&E opened an ocean trail
near the Diablo nuclear plant,
goats and sheep dotted the hillside
with white Akbash dogs on duty.

I learned about the shepherd,
hired to bring his brush-eating herd
to control weeds and prevent fires.
He cares for the dogs,
feeds and takes them to the vet.
 
On hikes I watched for the sheep,
but they grazed in hidden pastures,
and I imagined a Biblical shepherd
standing strong, holding his crook,
looking after our nuclear plant.

One day, the guard tells me that on a trip
to the vet, a dog escaped,but three days later
he was found . . .  back with his flock.
I walk through the valley near the nuclear domes,
and see the dogs protecting goats and sheep.

On my next hike I meet the shepherd
folding the fence that moved with the flock.
The sunburned, blonde man tears up, tells me
about a lamb lost to a lion last night,
and, though he had not stepped out of the Bible,
meeting him with his sheep takes me there.

 

 

 

 



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Jeanie Greensfelder
by Jeanie Greensfelder
Psychologist, poet,
Hospice of SLO volunteer . . . 

The Homestead

         . . .  a farm that is no more a farm.
                                             
 Directive—Robert Frost

Growing up on a Kentucky farm,
she fed the pigs and chickens,
picked beans and strawberries,
lugged water from the well,
carried wood for weekly baths,
shivered in the cold outhouse,
and when she was old enough,
she left and never looked back,

except that one trip, cross-country,
when she tried to find
the town that was no more a town,
the farm that was no more a farm,
and stood in a field looking
like she'd lost the Grail goblet,
and wanted to sip once more
to find the sweet in the bitter.

Figures

The Mourners: Tomb Sculptures

In the museum, seeing the foot-tall alabaster monks,
each face unique, each robed, each in heartfelt despair,
I do not want to know about John the Fearless,
his medieval crusades and exploits, and how
he ordered statues made to pray for him . . . 
I want to know the workers who shaped
moonlit bodies, gave life to stone,
conjured grieving gestures and faces,
placed holy books and rosaries in tiny hands,
and while obeying ducal orders,
shaped men that pray and mourn for us all.

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Morro Bay/Cayucos Can't Get Their Sewer Plant Out of Flood Zone

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