California Living

After supper I make amends,
taking my body for a walk –
four miles marched, punctuated
by the blat-blat-blat of a Harley,
the Doppler whoosh of small metal
worlds on wheels,

bathed in a sodium yellow
streetlight buzzing industrially
like nothing heard in nature
this din of light pierced by
the ersatz bird chirp of a
crosswalk signal,

gazing up, I wink at the moon
undressed, full and flirting with
voluptuous clouds, the air
infused with cloying car fumes.
I pause at a yellow rose
far from Texas, inhaling

its spicysweet gift. It’s not paradise,
this city, but it will do.