9/10/08

Where I come from, we eat strawberries by the fence
The wind by the shore blows into your face
and the waves from the sea blanket your legs always
Where I come from, the lands weave together, their edges tucked into mountains
The sun is always painting its mural across the sky,
emboldened, the colors are raw and shatter into pieces
at times when the sun feels displaced, the painting seems so vulnerable