Monday, March 9, 2009

From Los Angeles to Portland to Los Angeles


This morning was all snow.
But it didn't stick.
Later, hail
fell.
The wind blew the hailstones
at a 45° angle,
it hit my eyes
and caressed my clothes
as I walked to the DHS.

I daydreamed
of warm nights,
of driving on the I-5
speeding south,
through the Grapevine.
Driving into purple dusks
going at least 85 mph;
windows rolled down
music colliding
with the hot, dry wind.

Driving alone, then,
I remember listening to
"It makes me cry to see love die"
But I only thought of driving
home
to be with you.
Just to be with you.

Now as I walk in this cold
I hear again
"It breaks my heart to see us part"
so sad
to watch
good
love
go
bad.

And I think of walking
home
later this evening
to save a couple dollars
of bus fare
to return to
no one
in particular.

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