Two Poems by Robert Barminski

Quien Sabe

At night I dream
of the perfect wave,
the gliding, glassy, undulating wave,
just above Grapevine.

As the current clutches the boat
and we are in the river’s grasp,
we look past the converging smoothness
to the churning chaos below.

Not knowing our fate
you catch my eye and we smile,
enjoying the delicious uncertainty,
and the pulsing aliveness of the wave.

I dream of the wave,
          and you.


Of Unkar

The red shales of Unkar
crunch loudly and warmly underfoot
the warm wind scuttles gently
over the rocks and bushes

The Canyon is wide at Unkar
old river beds blanket the hills
rivers of rounded stone left behind
living and dead rivers flowing together

There are secret watchers at Unkar
an old watchtower on the hill
not so old watchtower on the rim
guarded quietly for a long time

She came to commune with her mother
somewhere in the wind and rocks of Unkar
a woman of the rivers and the Canyon
Of Unkar her spirit dwells

They walked together upon the hills
the shale scrunched beneath her feet
somewhere the silent sentinels watched over
a mother and her daughter at Unkar

Robert Barminski