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"incenese" poems
On a walk in the middle of spring. All the bees on cali orange blossoms. The birds sing   The difgerent smell of food as i go downtown Live music somwhere in the distance echoing all around. Through the old neighborhoods i always  roam. I feel at home. Passing houses. Cars pass.  Incenese nag champa. ciggs. **** and fresh cut grass. Seeing familiar people out and about. Fresh air. Free. No lock down. No care. Even the dogs runnin up on me barkin is all good. Warm night Cool breeze through my neighborhood
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Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 1:04 AM UTC
Sping walk