so hard I could barely see the road ahead
I drove as you slept
and watched the shades of sand shift
in the cloud shadows
and the miles of bulbous sage bushes
that greeted us on our journey
It cannot really be sage green
unless the orange rocky earth is
illuminated behind it
I drove through towering rock formations
shale, granite,
limestone, volcanic
grey, black, brown
Sedimentary
striations
dry, moist,
jagged, flat, worn,
some molded by a child's hand
Others like vital signs on the horizon
I drove with
white-knuckled grips
on the steering wheel as our blessed tires
whirred on the winding roads
9500 feet high
Guard Rail Damage Ahead
Falling Rocks
Drastic Grade Change
The sunlight swam in the
whitecaps of the blue ocean below
way below
and then close enough to
Park, walk, explore
Collect along the shore
Park to buy avocados
10 for a dollar
sweetest strawberries and ripe cherry tomatoes
You two delighted in the champagne mangos
"If butter were a fruit... this is what it would taste like."
We drove until
in the distance there was an iconic sign on a hill
But all around us was the grey of concrete
tourists and souvenirs
"Let's keep driving."
We found solace in the Santas
Catalina, Monica, Barbara, Cruz
Cold morning walks to the harbor,
to the lighthouse
to diners, coffeeshops, trendy stores
I followed behind
Two young men
the babies I once held
the babies who altered
the landscape of my life
The grains of sand swiftly sift
The fog set in and we shivered
The new generation of hippies
on Haight Street
asked if we could help them out
again and again
Tattoos and interesting fashion choices
"Ya got any new ink?"
"Why do homeless people always have dogs?"
And the Victorian houses were
snug and colorful
like a rainbow's wavelengths
The Golden Gate Bridge... check.
The Painted Ladies... check.
Dinner in Chinatown
Dessert at Ghiradelli
The litter, the drug deals, the sirens...
and a hotel room right next to an antiquated elevator
Time to return to nature
Ah...
Waterfalls, Riverflows
El Capitan and
the Tuolumne Meadows,
Sky-scraping sequoias
and pine trees that dropped oversized cones
A destination even for European visitors
"C'est magnifique!"
We drove some more
Through deserts sprinkled with
roadside stands selling Native American wares
Hot wind blasted our faces
Our resources depleting
Our spirits fleeting
Until the green hills and crisp, fragrant air
enveloped us again
This is our last stop.
We gathered under a black sky
where white stars were splashed
on the entire canvas
as if by Pollock's paintbrush
Awakened by the fluttering of hummingbirds' wings
and the chirpings of chipmunks,
we sipped coffee as we marveled at Mount Blanca
At breakfast in town,
we met a man with Desiderata
tattooed on his forearms:
"With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world."
