Last Words Out

The moon was perched high over the Pacific

And lit the oceanic waves & waters magnetically

Crashing on the sands of the land called California.

She was all that I thought her to be and more

Her scent was on me now - on my lips that I licked

As I sat in a rocking chair on the porch of an old

Historical hotel in Santa Monica on Ocean Avenue

And pondered the sun drenched days and coolly

Charmed neon nights in San Diego, West Hollywood

And now on the edge in Santa Monica and Malibu.

I was wishing everyone could feel the way I was

Feeling right there and then with my feet up on

The banister swallowing refreshingly clean breaths

Of crisp Pacific --- stimulating Santa Anna winds -

Those who may have sat on the same porch before me

With high spirits & bitten by life as if to tease for a taste

And those who may have witnessed "weird scenes inside-

The gold mine" - And those Native American Indians and

Stoned teenagers letting their secret fires burn in caves

Along the rocky cliff side beaches and calling canyons.

The next day I would be flying east to the Three Rivers

And with the radiant jeweled Moon my thoughts burned with

Its vibrant cosmic embers and these are my "last words out."

 

---(written July 2008 - March 15, 2009)---

    

   mystrawhat-2009