Angela Allen

Harney County, First Day

I sail the sagebrush sea, green scent drifting,
and just as you tell me, scan the land
for elk and antelope, big-horned sheep,
jack rabbits, those suicidal pests, like Jessie said. Read More


The azaleas bloomed in February,
or was it March?
That sultry fading winter when
aromas rushed like blood
into fresh spring. Read More

San Juan Angels

Treading air over pastel cathedrals,
they rise, warm crema in caffe,
so sweet,
shot of rum on the rocks. Read More


The mothers came home,
lipstick smeared like jelly, lurching for coffee,
just freshening up.
The fathers, revived after a cocktail fling,
ties loose, hair tossed like high school boys.
Some walked me home. Read More

Harney County Lesson

I am heartened
in this vast lonely land
by the room for affection.

Tundra swans swim in twos,
mule deer mingle, then muddle,
sandhill cranes remain faithful. Read More