Archive for the ‘Tubac’ Tag
Tumacácori (September 27, 2019)– Image by kenne
“As Jesuit Eusebio Francisco Kino and his party approached the O’odham (or Pima) settlement of Tumacácori in January 1691, they rode the wave of a century of expansion northward along New Spain’s west coast corridor. The Jesuits had performed tens of thousands of baptisms and also become the region’s most powerful social and economic force. But the tide carried them no farther north than the Pimería Alta, home of the upper Piman Indians.” — Read more . . .
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Southern Arizona Winter Fenceline Painting by kenne
I love fences
while loving
entrances,
a reflection
of my being
in a world
of contrasts
and opposites.
— kenne
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Hiking the de Anza Trail between Tubac and Tumacacori, Arizona, 20 miles north of Nogales, Sonora, Mexico — Images by kenne.
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Cockerbur Weeds, not a place to let your dog run free. — Image by kenne
A Cockerbur Night
She was hard to see in the dark,
I called and called but her puppy spirit
Was sending an invitation to come play —
It was late and dark, not a time for playing.
I was not interested in chasing her in the dark,
So I closed the door and waited for ten minutes.
Not hearing her bark, I checked on her,
Again, calling and calling — this time looking for her.
Frustrated and worried, I went back in the house.
Through the night I listened for her.
Waking early at first light I readied for a search,
But as I opened the door, there she was
Lying on the “Welcome” doormat.
Jumping up, I hugged her,
Feeling the imbedded cockerburs
Collected from her night of play.
— kenne
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(First posted November 15, 2012)
Image by kenne
Our Window Of Yesterdays
Like Cinderella’s
Glass slipper
Only one shoe
Had the right fit.
In life’s early years
It took time
Searching
For the right fit —
Trying on
Many different shoes
Before the music
Brought us together.
I
Slipped into you
Tying you
To my body –
Knowing
Only you
Could get so close.
We
Have walked
Many miles
Not always in step
But at the start of each day
You were there.
You
Supported each step
Through the good times
When we danced together
And the bad times
When the music stopped.
Over the years
I knew
Where we were going
You knew
Where we had been
As our souls
Have now worn thin —
Broken
Held together by twin
Only now expressing
The secret face
Of our enter selves.
Having been seduced
By a lover’s
Darkest kiss
No longer laced together —
Merely to be left behind
In the window
Of yesterdays
Kissed only
By tomorrow’s sun.
kenne
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Bunkhouse Alone The De Anza Trail Between Tubac and Tumacacori in Southern Arizona– Images by kenne
Almost A Line of Poetry
Winter’s trees place shadows on the walls.
Leaves pepper the dirt floors
Below broken rafters open to the sky.
Windows and doors missing from their opening.
An old canning jar, hot-pot and boots
Placed in open window, not by chance.
Someone arranged them —
Almost a line of poetry.
— kenne
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Bunkhouse Windows — Images by kenne
Hidden
Under a thick mesquite bosque,
A barbwire fence
Separates
The historic Juan Bautista de Anza trail
From an old
Abandoned building,
Whose cracked adobe walls
And collapsing roof
Provide sunlight and shadow
Through yawning windows
On individual items
Of cowboys past —
Enduring whispers
From a permanent
Desert breeze
Bearing celebratory voices
After a hard day’s ride.
kenne
32.270209
-110.860703
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