Dark chocolate with black sea salt and caramel
A cold rain quiet as a mirror
Slow cooked eggs
Sundays
Shanghai silk merlot
Deep yellow heirloom tomatoes
Driving over the Tehachapi Mountains,
down the Grapevine, that serpentine road
The old gray sweater,
that feels like a hug from my mom
Seattle’s lavender sky
Ferries—slow moving castles
across the Sound
People watching
at Pike Place Market
Sunlight cathedraling through
tall fir trees
Muddy Waters playing
bottleneck guitar
Cowboys—the reason they invented jeans
Nana’s sweet relish
Slow kisses
Cold pizza for breakfast
October’s marmalade moon
How in Kansas the earth flattens,
the road straightens
and there’s nothing but amber wheat
all the way to the horizon
rippling on the breeze,
that dry rustling sound
About the Author: Pat West
Pat Phillips West lives in Portland, Oregon. Her poems have appeared in various journals, including Haunted Waters Press, Persimmon Tree, San Pedro River Review, and Slipstream, and some have earned nominations for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net.