Thursday, November 16, 2006

Persimmon Tree, Autumn

Persimmon Tree, Autumn. Delta fields, somewhere beyond Isleton. Two lane roads give way to dirt, pools of water on either side, endless furrows... All the colors of brown, jostled together in a wide stillness... Misty light, veiling the sun, even at mid-day, water in the air... Old marinas, after summer's fun--Owl Harbor, for example--with an ancient PT boat moored in the shallows, Navy gray against river mist . Thanksgiving day--this is how it is--a celebration, but out here, just a few Spanish-speaking men, fishing from levee rocks, their small fires banked against the chill. Down below, in the fields, a bevy of pick-ups--large-sized Dodges and Fords--pulled up in a farm house lot. Everyone inside, you'd imagine, gathered round the table. Leaving us the empty roads, the late afternoon light, the wind...

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