Pablo Picasso, The Rooster, 1938 |
I was born in an abscess of a city
And I played in the broken glass
I ran with homeless dogs
For music, there were sirens
From the police, the ambulances
And there were women
Whose names I have forgotten
But whose eyes I remember
Fierce and dark, the eyes of lust
So very long ago, so far away
I wonder now, what was my name
---
California. The Sacramento Valley. I have Yolo County in my bones, and Davis town is in my blood. I planted deep roots here, a family and a home, and the years spent working, planting, and growing connect me to this place. Does it belong to me? No, more like I belong to it. Flora and fauna worthy of love. People, too. A love day in July, today. Would you like some peaches? The tree out back has had such a fine season.
---
Driving the summer backroads of Yolo County
With tiny glimpses of Putah Creek between the Valley Oaks
Tell me, wife, did you know that love could last this long
James Lee Jobe
The Allman Brothers Band - It's Not My Cross To Bear
"Writing or making anything - a poem, a bird feeder, a chocolate cake-has self-respect in it. You're working. You're trying. You're not lying down on the ground, having given up."
Sharon Olds
"I measure every Grief I meet
with narrow, probing, eyes;
I wonder if It weighs like mine"
Emily Dickinson
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Thanks,
James
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