The relationship unfolding with the oceanic tide
Good morning beautiful…
ladies, you know
when they taketh away
a pourposeful pain
reaching a point
unknown
the morning call,
for you
the night owl quiet,
boo
ghost, silence, nothing is new
there,
but really?
i do come to you
a chore, in the end
drop off the groceries
put up the cash
a fancy dinner
gifts,
my ass
family events
arm candy,
perhaps
the love of the heart
time is money
and no longer the greeting…
freeing.
but love,
what is that
Almost 30 years ago, when I packed my newly leased Jetta with tent equipment and girl power, I failed to recognize the impact of the adventure.
The idea to settle in San Diego blew to dust with the wind as the funnel of female power grew stronger. I discovered what I did not want; to live on sandy, hippie beaches, bland Texas highways, and don’t make me say it… Taco Bell, nacho supreme on a taco shell ( sing song, drunk passengers made for a good laugh with that jingle ).
I did discover: a preference for divey LA bars over posh, see and be seen night clubs, swampy New Orleans humidity, and the scent of pine while driving Route 5 to Portland, Oregon.
With the evergreens trailing my tail pipes, I managed, one year shy of 30 later, to find my way back to this favored spot of all.
And somehow, manifestation aside, it happened upon me, now adulting and over 50, grateful for the situationship placing it in my lap.
Mer
The Past Stays Here 