the new default

The farmer's market awakens today, reminding me of so many summers tasteless and sacrificed to the god of perfection.

Nostalgia of something greater; that summertime choke, haunts me no more.

The other day we played bocce on your lawn,
whiskey and motion,
you won, just like you wanted to.

And before, we adventure.
The car, the music, the wind, the sunglasses, the dreams, your face.

Ice cream.

Succulents.

Garden stores and dribbling raspberry pie.

I can feel it, since it's here, and nobody can say,
'not this year, maybe next'

Alive,
I've crawled out,
re-set button launched.

Hey YOU,
Hey Babe,
Hey, maybe we could communicate deeper and then we could really know the sand and stars!

I ran the other day, lost my breath, cursed aloud and said, "how did I get this bad?"

I dreamed last night that I ran swiftly and smoothly around the track,
not winded, pure and easy,


pure and easy.

That is it, and it's happening here.

Wild and re-wild and then go to the farm market with me and pick out the reddest raspberries.

I'm done with the old tale of pretend.

This is now, and it's here, and I don't lie anymore to make myself feel better.

Abs and all the thrusts,
say you love me,

whoa.

and many words in-between.

California is calling my name,
and I'm uncertain in that placement, but the waves soothe more, and maybe I'll ride by myself to the warm breeze.

perhaps, this time,
I will live exactly how I have always wished.

Maybe this becomes the default.

Welcome.