Athletes and Aesthetes

    i see you go,
      like trying to be a ghost,
in the bus station of men,
  draped -

you just might not be seen, 
   being ghost-like.

fleeing on softer feet,
   i am watching,
oh so ghost-like.

Hunting Grounds and Monarch Mating

Sun sending, eucalyptus spires, trunks,

    preserve upon the west cliff,

waded through the succulence and dust,

 gravel tasting bare feet, collecting dust.

  Chase the bite, bite your' pursuer,

flying, fluttering, sinking in flails of coastal belch,

thousands of monarchs making love in the red wood mist.

     Santa Cruz caleafornia.

scent.