September 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 Monument. 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/
Tuolumne River
Breeze off morning rapids
Is a gift trailing scents
Of pine, of lupine,
Of sweet woodsmoke,
But its first touch
Is a blue blade
Pulled by dawn from a sheath of
Ice.
–currently published on The Red Wolf Journal site
Venom
The rattlesnake's
severed head rested
Like a spent bullet
Against
My grandfather's boot.
Desert dust
Coated that boot
With years of layers,
None from a
trail.
He nudged the head,
Tipped it with his toe
Until the fangs
pointed up.
I shivered,
But I liked those
fangs.
Children respect
Clear intentions
And nothing's as pure as
Venom.
–currently published at The Writer’s Drawer
Senryu
Red monkeys prancing
Near senators debating -
Red monkeys prancing.
Coyote Moon
A midnight breeze
Trembles fir needles
Against half a moon
As Coyote cries
Pierce autumn sky
Like flung thorns.
Their hunt is silent,
Except
When blood is on their teeth
And they remind the moon
There’s always a hunt.
–originally published in Avocet
Yosemite
Unnamed Falls
Aspen leaves tremble within
The bursting arc
Of your morning flight.
Tumbling saffron
Explosions,
A fall of buttercups,
Parallel
But no less joyful,
Follow you
To the sea.
©2014 Robert Walton