Beverly Dahlen and the Sphinx

I suspect there are not many older poets in San Francisco who would enjoy having their work from the early 70's trumpeted about the Internet, but some of Bev Dahlen's poetry seems to transcend the decades. Consider for example these lines from a longer poem entitled Tree:

the city burning
at sunset a winter evening
the cold rosy light
on the blank sides of buildings
across the desert same
reptile light on pyramids
gone-eyed close-mouthed sphinx
halfway around the world
crawling nights
trailing sand

fire-bombing scorched earth same

go thirsty all green
sweetwater and forests

laid waste
his stone towers

he eats
his light


From Beverly Dahlen, Out of the Third, Momo's Press, 1974.