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Los Padres National Forrest
south of Big Sur
While I re-found my clicking addiction on this hiking trail and was busy snapping away, my husband, Joe, wrote this poem:
pocket glance
california highway one
around the turnpike
under blue turquoise water
the kelp forest hides
erosion, orange
signs botanicals
along the edge
the moving particular
fly buzzing in ear
chili flowers
blaze in the sun
lit up before dusk
roar of one
sun behind leaves, dried
from summer, look up
to camera's flash
buzz buzz tweat
sea flat from distance
bloated texture, porous
red rocks, a magenta
film over everything
seated by tom thumb
shaped rock, sun behind
tree cluster off an edge
whirlpool spied from left eye
pink throat of horizon
the trail is a long trail
three horizontal slabs
scratch cloud form
gold and buoyant in ocean
half sticks, shining out
half moon rises with night
pushing Helios deeper down.