5/16/02 #2

This morning there is gratitude for our location
Last night’s whining of being nowhere has turned
Into a rare chance while here to have a view
To see the carefully placed trees framed
By hills and mountains rather than buildings
To hear the song of birds and water
Louder than the traffic and technology

Growing more tolerant of the western elements
The putting green surface and the sore thumb tower
An insult ignored
These touches part of what this place is now

Myself a hybrid person in a patchwork place
Having a purist moment, my age showing
The American argument rising within me again
The insistence of the stamp
The need for the familiar
The unyielding mind and the loudest voice
The curse of the Golden Arches, my American shame

I’m just glad to wake near a hillside
And to have the chance to open the curtain
Slide the door back and enjoy it.