Sandy Starr is a journalist, writer/photographer for a newspaper and business publications. She currently resides in the foothills of Albuquerque, New Mexico. She makes an annual pilgrimage to California. She has written poetry for as long as she can remember. She has been published locally in several publications, and in InkLit, Artisan and A Writer's Choice Literary Journal (http://members.spree.com/writer/). In 2002, she won first place in the Artisan, a journal of craft, sixth anniversary contest for her poem, "Where the Land Lays Down."
Sandy Starr has lived all over the country and the world. Her heart, however, still lives in San Francisco, where she lived for two years in the 1970's. She says that she loves the California coast, and that her favorite thing to do is drive up Highway 1 and take it all in," the view, the smell, everything." Ms. Starr wrote the poems in this collection about California.
Sandy Starr's poetry is also featured in the 1997, 1999, 2000, 2001, and 2002 editions of The Central California Poetry Journal on pages 0203, 0106, 0001 , 9102 , and 7107. Sandy Starr has completed a non-fiction book and a novel. She is at present seeking an agent/publisher to represent and/or publish her work. You may wish to visit Sandy Starr's web page by using this link to Sanstarr's Page
In a little tin box are stones
Colorful smooth stones
In my hand
I have pictures of a ladybug
Cambria calls me in the night
brought back from the western edge
washed and ground by the sands of time
the beat of the waves
the wind against shore
sensual and cool
shades of the earth from light to dark
brown and rust to black and grey
they hold the fog
inside
the warmth opens their pores
where memory of the sea escapes
invisible
the moon on rolling waves
the seals on sea blackened rocks
the salty spray on my face when I walked
on the ever changing yet constant
stones and sand
spied with the naked eye on a piece of driftwood
on top of pebbles in the sand
grasses and sea birds back lit by the sunset
magic in the light
telling me to remember and come back
to the figures walking in darkness
golden light from the windows
orange red sunsets falling into the sea
breathe me in
it says in my dreams
hold me in your hand again
nobody can know what I need but me
the air fills with cries of seagulls
here in my landlocked space
there is a hint here of what was so long ago
night comes with rain falling down
and I know I need to be where I can breathe
and I cry knowing they are there
without me
in this dry dry place I shiver
wanting to be where the earth slips into the sea
an inland sea that left clues of its existence
but it is half or less of what I need
half by half of what I have to have to breathe
even my dreams are dry
the wind sucks all moisture from the air
I remember sunsets hanging on mist particles
over sand
the red gold sky glistens and I am here
holding it in my heart
and thunder rumbling in the distance
the drops splatter on cement
soak into earth and glisten on leaves and grass
all rivers run to the sea
I have been landlocked too long
remember the hot chocolate
mud slides were being cleared away
the trees took us in
the air was so clean and crisp it hurt to breathe
Big Sur reaches out and ahead and into my now dream
I roll over in a dream in the dead of early morning
and breathe
pines surround and perfume cool wet air
I see them and hear the trickle
of water running over rocks
that afternoon late after so long on the twisting road
we followed an eighteen wheeler up PCH
wondering with every turn why it was on the narrow highway
tall grasses gold in late afternoon sun
exploded at the top of their stalks
the sea sparkled blue green
white whipped cream flew against dark rock
one lane traffic inched along like ants on their way
to the anthill
scooping us up in their shadowed arms
handing us off one by one until we found
a place to stop
pine and water and salty breezes danced around our bodies wood
smoke teased and tickled
filtering into our hair our noses our lungs
trying to pull me across dry desert into the sweetness
of that afternoon falling into sunset
My shadow grew tall
Eight rows of white lace layered upon the beach
Dark sky held
It all disappeared
I entered a world at one with sand and water
Out to where water met the unseen horizon
I am washed
back lit by orange street lights
my breath caught
as bare feet touched the damp sand
and took me toward the dark edge of land.
I was ruled by an unseen force, magnetic.
dancing, waving,
and I transformed into a creature of the sea
gill breathing the wet from the night wind.
were light puffs of cloud cotton
edged with pink.
Behind me people laughed
as they ran by.
Cars moved, shaking sand like metal dogs.
like the orange gold three quarter moon
behind sooty clouds.
filling,
releasing,
salt water-
salt tears,
an offering of thanksgiving.
my mind sent the message
you're here
I am here again.
You waited.
I am always almost surprised
to find that undulating
seductive roll
still there at
whatever edge of land
my dry soul makes it to
in desperation.
soaked
filled up.
All text and images in The Central California Poetry Journal are copyrighted. Copyright by © by Scott Galloway 2002. All rights are reserved. See main Journal page for copyright information.
Authors and poets submitting original materials to this journal retain all rights to their original work, except those rights specifically assigned in writing to Solo Publications including the right to publish the submitted work in The Central California Poetry Journal. The poems on this page are copyrighted by the author. Copyright © Sandy Starr 2002 All Rights Reserved
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1-01-02