View from the Car Window
A brown and white dog is trotting down the sidewalk,
a small shepherd mix with a feathery tail. He’s clearly free
from the fetters of his ordinary life, to leap at bees
above a lavender bush, cross the neighbor’s fragrant lawn
to sniff the potted marigolds on the porch, then jog back
to the sidewalk, taking in scents along the sidelines. No one
whistles or shouts a name from the porch—
Rocky! Jango! Ezra!
He continues without penalty because the day is full
of grass and August sunlight, sprinkler run-off in the gutter
a creek to drink from, a place to wet his paws, pools
of shade beneath the ash trees cool as someone’s hand
stroking his head when he finds his way home. Soon,
or at least before dark.
Drought After Wildfires
Only two pale daffodils opened in April
So much brittle grass dead beside the lake
Last winter’s drought somehow eluded me
As I walked with the dog below a watery sun
So much brittle grass dead beside the lake
The water gray as iron almost every day
Walking the dog below a watery sun
We stood on the muddy shore slowly growing older
The lake gray as iron almost every day
Drought is a silence both above and below
We walked on the muddy shore and slowly grew older
There are so many lessons I’ve failed to learn
Drought is a silence both above and below
Invisible thief in the air and earth
There are so many lessons I’ve failed to learn
Only two pale daffodils opened in April
I Wish in the Forest Fire of Your Heart
After Robley Wilson
That I could be the river
where the herd of elk cross to safety
and the young firemen digging
long trenches ahead of the roar
and the hawk and the hummingbird
winging skyward.
I wish I could be
the rain cloud charging over
the smoking crowns of trees
to drop tears of relief
on the last smoldering flames.
Lisa Zimmerman’s poetry collections include How the Garden Looks from Here (Violet Reed Haas Poetry Award winner), The Light at the Edge of Everything (Anhinga Press), and Sainted (Main Street Rag). Her poetry and fiction have appeared in Redbook, The Sun, SWWIM Every Day, Cave Wall, Poet Lore, Hamilton Stone Review, and many other journals. Her poems have been nominated for Best of the Net, five times for the Pushcart Prize, and included in the 2020 Best Small Fictions anthology. She lives with her family in Fort Collins, Colorado.