Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Day tripping at St. Peter's.

One-lane town with charm. Get out of the car. Walk to the bakery. Order sandwiches. Sit on the deck. Look at the other day trippers picking about the boulders. Walk to the boulders and the stream. Pick gingerly about the boulders and the stream. Get an ice cream. Keep it from dripping over the side so your finger don't sticky. Go back to the car. Drive around the bucolic surrounderings. Anticipate urban encroachments the closer you get. Pull in back at your ranch with the feeling of accomplishment, a little tired and sleepy.

All in all, it's what happened.
Looking down at the other day trippers, streaming it. Chinese nuclear family with athletically fashionable mom and delicate son, less fashionable dad (gramps?), and American family, dad with big cowboy hat, t-shirt, and flip-flops.
Little world, floating up from the garden.
That's right, America. Get with program.
 Watergate.
 Summer foliage with person in foreground.
Spirits in the material world.
Don't walk this way.
Purple is the color of my true love's door.

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