at the vineyard

rich sat on the patio effusing

on the view   the serenity   

the rows of vines   the stone structures

the golden hills of live oaks   

the soft breeze   the sunset on the distant pacific   

i could almost hear colin's grandfather's thoughts

because i had effused with much the same words   

had heard colin's grandfather's response

almost inaudible   almost to himself   almost with regret

it took a lifetime

safe harbor

my desire for home is relentless

i have no home

only places to sleep

i grew up here and there

no home

the closest i can come

to conjuring an image of home

is the vineyard

i wish that were my home

this place   santa fe   will never be home

i am restless

all the time   unsettled   unmoored

very close to unhinged   but i

know the value of a roof

written from the chair with the yellow gingham fabric

on a cold winter night   nightgowned   

slippered   robed

under quilts   curtain drawn

i remember and write

of places

friendships   loves   losses   

joy   heartbreak   serenity   beaches   

patios   dances   

flying carpets   write   to remember 

or soothe   but write

always writing   

never reaching the end

never finding the words

that will bring the writing to an end

chant

going to shake out my nation sack

shed the thing

of evil   toss those silver coins   

ill wishes and hoodoo

charms

going to fill that red flannel

with rainbows and jujubes

cotton candy

and my little ponies   going to start over   

try on sunshine and grace   

see how they fit   

because i'm weary to the bone

of here and now

and me 

ludwig and i

wittgenstein burned hot

then flamed out   needed a reset   

downtime   went to the flicks   

carmen miranda a fav   

i compare myself to wittgenstein

only in that i need a reset   

have burned my little gray matter

to a crisp trying to find the solution   

knowing there is no solution

never will be a solution   

so now   downtime   a book   a flick   

a bath and a moan  

to quote emma thompson 

maybe write   write too many words

thoughts from a bench in the sun

i love the way the parks fill up on sunny days

and the outdoor tables at the cafes   too

it's gay and happy   people are feeling good

and so am i   even the pigeons are smiling

almost everyone is on their phone   a few   like me

have their face to the sun   we're heliotropic

i have to go back to work in ten minutes

that's ten minutes of sun   i wish i could bag it

set it on my desk   parcel it out bit by sunny bit

throughout the afternoon   maybe

i'll buy an orange before i go back   set that on my desk

a miniature sun to keep me warm   

the world looks better in sunshine

i will enjoy it   savor the rays and be glad

`