Sadie at a Pacific Coast lighthouse hostel, who sang her deep-voiced acapella song in the kitchen one morning, as huge waves surged around the rocky promontory below.
T in the Garlic Capital of the World whose attic hideaway was a magical haven of art, antiques and the biggest Christmas cactus I think there ever was. Its pot alone was about 3' across, and its segmented green arms bouqueted even further.
R in the redwoods with her loving terrier and 3 affectionate cats who kept their claws to themselves, all living in a century-old lumber town house full of music, creativity, and down-to-earth joy--like a gritty spirituality that knows the outer reaches of the cosmos and doesn't take any shit.
And it's good to be home.
About this Poem
This poem is part of my Solstice solar year poem cycle, where I write a poem a day from June 22, 2019 to June 21, 2020. The poem a day may get posted on a different day than it was written, or several poems might get posted on the same day. And if I choose to submit a poem to a literary journal, I delete it from this blog before doing so. That's my project. I hope it touches your soul and makes you think.
And maybe inspires you to write more poems of your own.
