If I never see you again I will always carry you
on my fingertips
and at brain edges
and in centers
of what I am of
Charles Bukowski, Living on Luck (via ughpoems)
Five Things About the Place I Call Home
1. The fuzzy mountains roll into each other lazily.
2. Tips of tree canopies, nearly touching, blanket the sleepy giant hills in marbled blobs of different greens - pine, ash, fir, oak.
3. The sun gently warms the mornings, waking the birds and coaxing the carmel-sugar scent from the trees.
4. The night brings coolness and fresh air. Between ponderosa silhouettes, stars gleam intensely.
5. The moon threatens to keep me awake with its brightness.
Today at Lake Mary
And then -
“I knew we wouldn’t make it,” he said.
Choo struck out, last at bat.
Is that it?
“Always springs eternal,” so they say.
In my experience?
Always ends in damnatio memoriae.