Pacific Madrone
Linda Russo



shall I sleep or disappear or make myself useful?


the place is emptying outwhat will Monday bring, the people will disappear


fog lifting, a few sail boats on the strait, here comes a ship

the woods still, the haunted shells of militarism

for it gathers one's self around one to walk alone in the wood


take a notebook up to the ridge, will the clouds ever relent?


shaking telephone wires, 3 Swallows, a pick-up truck, the leaves on the jaunty branches of trees

(Monday 10:30 a.m.)


Pacific Madrone

highly sensitive, clannish, prone to sickness

close to the beach, sunny southern exposure


crooked, irregular branches, brickred bark

likes to be left alonecan't compete with humans

shines like polished mahogany in the rain





Linda Russo’s collections of poems include Mirth (Chax Press, 2007) and o going out (Potes & Poets, 1999); more poems have recently appeared in Bird Dog, Damn the Caesars, ecopoetics, Fence, New American Writing, P-Queue, and Tinfish. She currently lives and teaches in the Columbia River Watershed.