And another poem from William Stafford, great Kansas poet, and all around good fellow.
Sometimes I choose a cloud and let it
cross the sky floating me away.
Or a bird unravels its song and carries me
as it flies deeper and deeper into the woods.
Is there a way to be gone and still
belong? Travel that takes you home?
Is that life? to stand by a river and go.
Which brings me to my next rambling summer thought on this bright hot Los Angeles day. TREES. Eucalyptus. This particular species which most resemble the limbs of humans. These I found soaring up across the street from the graffiti poster. Sometimes a drifting mind sees beautiful things when you aren’t looking for them.