Sixty years and I’ve never been here
on top of this hill.
Well, welcome.
Thank you. It’s beautiful.
It really is.

[To meet a modern flâneur is to be graced by the day and the path and chance, if you believe in that.]

I’ve been to the lake many times, but I’ve never made the journey up. Why bother?
San Francisco has some beautiful places, he says, and I’ve been to many of them—even out to the airport—because I like to walk.
But I’ve never been up here before.
And it’s wonderful.

[In appreciation, he pats his khaki knees, thumbs the straps of his well-used pack, and grins.]

I’ll let you get back to your day now.
Goodbye!

A season is coming
A reason for going

The dancer is changing her skirt.

A newly paved pathway
A journey yet halfway

If a tree loses leaves, does it hurt?

and you wonder
if who you have been
is who You are meant to become.
Beating your breast
cursing the now
for not telling you sooner
where your edges are.

It’s okay, my darling.
We lovers
we humans
we minor, minor gods
are always standing
on a coast
that fog knows better.