Santo Cielo

A poem for Southern California…

 

Sainted sky…

Blessed sky?

Once so, I cannot help but feel it.

Struck-in-the-eye by its limpid quality.

Or, rather what’s left of it.

Something missing…

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Water, Liquid. So fluid!

Water, Liquid. So fluid!

Smiling, How’s that for circular logic!.

Water gathers. Especially the ocean. Such a presence.

Air? Nothing like it. Not even there most of the time. Don’t even notice it.

The ground? Just a surface, unmoving. We stand on it. Continue reading