I arrived in
I am happy living in
Postcards from
The only place where even in the middle of winter
You are assured a few surprising days of sun
And gifts of darkened silhouettes of palm trees
Against bright morning light
A perfect seventy degrees
The only place where you can stand on the corner
Of
Wearing mismatched pajamas
While your son takes a picture
Posed for of course
Against the background of the heavy traffic
On
On a Saturday morning
When hardcore truckers and die hard office people
Are still driving and commuting
Still chasing
The ever shrinking, disappearing
Into the crowds
Accompanied by my 2 best friends
Old age and eccentricity
Is not by chance that I am here
In my son’s room
My
After all it is the yearly
The one reserved for family and friends
And those who understand
The woman that I am
I only live like this in old
To some degree
That’s why for me right now
Comments