Her view from the hill
– once so fine in good weather –
just blackened landscapes.
San Diego fire 2
1
Her view from the hill
– once so fine in good weather –
just blackened landscapes.
Anne emails to say
smoke plumes rise like shrouds of loss.
Below, hell ablaze.
In bad rains bathroom
ceiling leaks. A slow tick tells
of water stains mapped.
At 6:30 they
awake to find I’m still up.
The curse of deadlines.
Insomnia has
tattooed across my eyelids
its wide-awake stare.
Can it be midnight?
I’m losing track of time, hours
misplaced like lost keys.
You think you know me.
Carefully constructed, I
reinvent daily.
Anonymity
becomes us all as we put
our second life first.
Some days the words spread
smoothly. Other days they stick,
like peanut butter.
I live for numbers.
Check my website stats hourly.
Page view addicted.