Point Reyes
Poetry
We drove through the hills
so green
animals dotting the terrain
the road never showing its tail
we passed fallen limbs, white like animal bones
damp earth, wet pavement, a canopy of redwoods
then open air
the sun shed its humidity through a blanket of fog
small fluorescent flowers
stout trees with spindly arms
windblown grasses, their tops sewing a fabric of plush purple
jagged cliffs of crumbling clay
my hands in the warmth of your leather pockets
the road — a fleeting thought below
and everywhere, birds
cranes dipping their long necks into a foamy exploration
hawks spreading their wings, claiming the breeze as their own
seagulls chattering and tiptoeing across wet sand
small birds dancing on barbed wire
flitting back and forth
the lonely farmhouses — curled on their haunches
stained white and red
like relics crouching among the untouched land
their windows telling stories of storms
their fences fallen and protecting only wild grasses
savage and beyond protection
yellow dewy petals lining the road
as the vast open fields passed us —
ever further
endlessly open
and unchanged
