When Volcanoes Wake
Our lives begin like volcanoes, gathering heat under earth’s compression. Passion erupts from the magma chamber of our depth. Mid years find us cooling into mature configuration, until at last we reach the golden time of sweet reflection.
"Erotic and exotic, narrative and lyrical, Diane Elliott’s sensibilities cut deep to the essence of lives lived both beautifully and brutally in the same embrace. Add to this artistic vision her eclectic photographic images, and the cauldron fires intensify. When I open this book to, say, “Hush Up And Hold Your Breath,” or “From The Bluff,” I think, “What more can a reader ask?” “Color,” you say? Then feast your eyes on the cover as you pour a stiff drink—on the rocks, definitely on the rocks!—before taking this hot, poetic, magma-flow ride."
Paul Zarzyski—author of Steering With My Knees
From the Bluff
On top of the bluff overlooking his ranch house
A man with skin the texture of dry autumn leaves
Sits on his bony grey roan.
Below him, between the house and the bluff
Crooked creek snakes through aspen, willow
And wild gooseberry.
In a clearing he sees his wife and grandson;
She heavy and greying, he a blond wisp.
Leaning on his pommel he watches them
Weave their way through dead grass.
Watches her set the boy to fishing
On a water-soaked log that runs
From the bank halfway into the stream
Watches her work her way up stream
The tip of her rod snapping forth and back
The rod, supple, arcing, reminding him
Of some woman, some poem
Written on his past.