The San Andreas ripples up your right hand side
Like an offset spine
Flanked by the trembling hills of the Temblor Range
On the valley floor
A piece of displaced sky
Where Sandhill cranes whoop it up in winter.
The Calientes crackle in summer heat;
In late autumn antelope and elk
Amble from the canyon shadows into the slanting December light.
This is where the condor soared.
They ate offal and multiplied.
Stole the condors’ eggs
Poisoned their dead prey
Struck them from the sky.
Once again the great birds
Tilt and wheel through the blue:
Empty spaces welcome their return.