.
Light spray over a daisy chain of days.
Many wives, brought on rocking boats,
Dissolve into one loved damsel.
Jury of Sighs, it is Time
To load the back with groceries.
Did I drive right? Risky slopes
Deer start across, hushed timber
Cool and the engine smoking.
When mouths of fog cover the truck
Pushed by wind, the ocean sends
Us violet shrouds, bears
Brush us in the dark eucalyptus.
Where the hawk dives, a flowing zone
Lights the road. A brown head whispers,
Friend of a lonesome man
In the restless advance of trees
And cars, signalling the way.
Looking north from Barnabe Fire Road, Samuel P. Taylor State Park: photo by Miguel v, 2003
Sherbrooke Forest: photo by Patche99z
'49 Chevrolet 3100 1/2 ton and '54 deluxe: photo by Writegeist, 2007
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