The Last Bite of the Emergency Apple
Silver Canyon, Santa Catalina Island
You take the last bite of the emergency apple,
while the teeth-y skulls of Barbary goats stare up from dusty shale,
from boulder strewn creek beds dry now in Indian summer swelter;
you tread unstable canyon avalanches that make new
valleys with now unfamiliar trails, while heat climbs out of the century,
beyond the untenable forecast. When you yawn and walk
ten paces to the shade, vaguely aware it’s not supposed to feel like this,
you recall unfathomable ponds from underground springs
were once enough to …