Sonoma Air

I wish everyday was a warm Sonoma spring day. That I may sit atop a tattered couch on a balcony overlooking the earth. I feel more at home by my lonesome taking in the tranquility in a second of a day. Time moves so much slower when you are moving backwards. I'm not regressing, just becoming more primal in my needs. Waste not, want not; and all I want it to spend an hour of my day in the sun. Distance means nothing to me. Time is nothing.

All life is broken down into blades of grass. So small am I to a predecessor of chartreuse beginnings. I suppose I find trees my greatest safety for they are my mother and my father. Trees are the parents to my parents and their parents still. So small am I compared to the trees. So safe.