Palos Verdes

Far-up the mountain
cliffs among white lines
of rain- a single thought

occurred and I placed
it in my pocket.

Further down, where
life becomes a tunnel
between the hills, brush
overcomes the thighs,

covets the migrant;

clings seedlings
to cotton cloth-

another reminder.

Green-grey is my theme
today and gasping purple
wildflowers too tiny
to understand nature's

disconcern
with land-bound
existence.

Consider the sky-

smug, pensive
and splitting
with decisions.