Kathy

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  • Life

    Kathy
    Kathy
    you brought me down to the ocean
    when you sat beside me
    the ice plants stained your dress
    they didn’t break where I sat
    no that I know ice plants
    you didn’t mind the stain
    anyway it was a small price to pay
    for that first day
    Sausalito and Coors
    harbor seals (you had never sen)
    baklava and friendly faces
    mountains I know quite well
    the ocean and your proximity
    I had forgotten
    you brought me down to the ocean
    when you sat beside me
    the ice plants stained your dress
    they didn’t break where I sat
    no that I know ice plants
    you didn’t mind the stain
    anyway it was a small price to pay
    for that first day
    Sausalito and Coors
    harbor seals (you had never sen)
    baklava and friendly faces

    mountains I know quite well
    the ocean and your proximity
    I had forgotten

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    Whiskers commented on Kathy

    03-16-2011

    A nice memory Train of a first date (? that first day) for us to image in our minds. But I have to ask, what are the ice plants? Missed you and your wonderful writes these last 10 days and wondered how you were doing, glad to see you back. Blessings, Whiskers.
    Reply to Comment

    train64

    03/16/2011

    the pic is of ice plants by the ocean.. They are green plants.. when you break them have a little (sap) as i remember..don't know why they are called that..my wife and i (not wife then) hadn't seen each other in about 6 years. I flew to SF from LA she had a place close to the beach......lived with her aunt..went to Sausalita ... had Baklava..which i had never heard of..and don't much like as i recall.. that was Christmas 72' married March 73'

    Teardrops commented on Kathy

    03-14-2011

    a beautiful way to discribe the beauty around all of us love the poem Lane great job Marie
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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