November 2014
I taught at San Lorenzo Middle School in King City, California for thirty-six years before retiring in June of 2006. Phyllis, my wife of 42 years, and I still reside in King City. I am a life-long rock-climber and mountaineer. I've made numerous ascents in the Sierra Nevada and Yosemite, though my home crags are in Pinnacles National Park. Many of my climbing stories have been published over the years. One, Three's a Crowd, was produced as a radio play and broadcast on KUSF in 2006 and later made it onto PBS.
I'm an experienced Fantasy and SF writer. My novella Vienna Station won the Galaxy prize and was published as an e-book. It is available for Kindle on Amazon. I co-wrote The Man Who Murdered Mozart with Barry Malzberg a few years back. My fantasy novel Chaos Gate was published in 2011. You may have run across my Joel in Tananar, too. Most recently, Moonlight Mesa Associates published my Young Adult historical novel Dawn Drums. Please visit my website at: http://chaosgatebook.wordpress.com/
I'm an experienced Fantasy and SF writer. My novella Vienna Station won the Galaxy prize and was published as an e-book. It is available for Kindle on Amazon. I co-wrote The Man Who Murdered Mozart with Barry Malzberg a few years back. My fantasy novel Chaos Gate was published in 2011. You may have run across my Joel in Tananar, too. Most recently, Moonlight Mesa Associates published my Young Adult historical novel Dawn Drums. Please visit my website at: http://chaosgatebook.wordpress.com/
Campfire, Convict Lake
Flames fork and quaver
In wind from glaciers above
I add pieces of pine,
A sprinkling of sweet sage
To ruby coals
Crumbling like love’s embers
And behold a frost-shedding moon.
-currently published on Poem Pigeon
Starlight — Miter Basin
Marmots,
Red-gold dandelion puffs
Gorging on afternoon sunshine,
Are gone now.
Boy skipping rocks,
A sparkling skitter-scatter
Across Sky Blue Lake,
Sleeps now.
Sky Blue Lake,
A Ming Queen’s sapphire
On the mountain’s
Golden breast,
Is a deeper shade of
Night now –
For a frost
Of ancient stars
Has come.
-previously published in Loose Scree
In Season
Distant shots puncture
Afternoon silence,
Flat slaps
Against the wind's cool face -
Missed, missed, missed,
Missed again.
Fortunate deer
Beyond the next ridge,
You escaped a weekend
Hunter.
-previously published in Avocet
The Rains of Sobibor
Insistent claws,
Smaller than a rodent’s,
Have furrowed the corners of your mouth -
Gravity’s touch
Was never a caress.
In an empty doorway
A light sways, windblown
And windblown drops shine
Like galaxies trailing starfire.
These falling rains are tears
Not just for you.
Citronella scent of candles --
I cup my hands to hold the glow;
It cannot be held.
New Moon, Autumn
Aspen leaves' orange and gold chiaroscuro
On yesterday's snow
Lingers like first love;
Nose a-tilt,
A red coyote struts
Through empty campsites;
Snow crystals embrace shadows
Blue as beryls
And dusk enfolds both;
Star needles
Stitch ice to twilight
In ancient embroidery;
Campfire coals crumble into azure wisps curling to the stars,
Phantom flames flickering
At time's end
©2014 Robert Walton