It came around again
for we are at the center
of our everything.

And the center never
moves.

It burns through natural clouds
and unnatural lines in our sky.

Over the Eastern mountains
and scorched hillsides.

Made its way
across a deadly
California desert.
Over a  mysterious ,
***** blondes bare
freckled shoulder.

Through the track homes
and the cheap motels.
Between  a beautiful ******
open legs and runny nylons.

Past the clerk asleep in the  hotel lobby.
Past the stolen car
outside.
Across the cluttered
room and
passed a dark alley way.

Up the main street
of some nowhere type of town.
Across the freeway and the blood stain.
Past the curbside motive candles.

Above the glass like surface
of the morning ,dead calm sea.
Through the fisherman's hopeful heart.
And the starlets dying flame.

Over the pages of my
favorite book ,
my favorite line.
"Run to me,Come to me'

Through my
half empty ***** bottle.
Bounced its way off the cracked
goodluck mirror  and  caught
me straight in the eye.

That first blinding ray
shines its way through the ages
to great you each and every  morning .

The first sign
that you've made it.
Still healthy enough to
gracefully waste another beautiful
Southern California day.