Muir Woods

Muir Woods

(California, l968)

Old trees, that is what they were,

So high, they merged with the sky—

Almost touched the upper void:

3000-years packed tightly into roots

Soil astronomy never saw—; here

Is where (in: 1968) my mother and I

Walked, side by side…down—, its

Old dirt pathway

As ever she strolled along beside me

Without a burden, slowly, a mile an

Hour. End of the road—across the

Blue bay, laid San Francisco.

Funny how we remember such simple

Afternoons, 30-years in the past, sitting

Here now at El Parquetito, in Miraflores;

Tomorrow, who knows what’s next!