Friday, October 26, 2012

Back in San Simeon Again (Definitely not to be sung to the tune of Aerosmith's "Back in the Saddle.")

Walking my dog
Under a waning moon
I approach the beach
While surf cannons explode.

High tide but low profile waves, 
wide rushes against a sandy beach
Mick Jagger lips
Lunar lit and starlight glow.

So warm and windy 
I think of Santa Barbara 
Nights like these,
Adventures of well spent youth.

Try to relax, become the beach
despite a silhouette, human 
off to my left.
Just a kindred soul I tell myself.

Who shares a love, I tell myself, 
for mysteries, night and surf.
But I pocket a large rock, 
feeling strangely undefended.

Where did I adopt this fear
Only two months absence?
Maybe the novel I'm reading,
murders on beaches, Sands of Death.

Castle flickering on the ridge,
reassuring but somehow different.
Perhaps they've illuminated another wing,
Or maybe I'm just plain wrong.

So I escort the dog up a hill
Seeing another silhoutte, lanky and tall,
approaching head on, and think of Andrei
But it's not my friend.

I feel adrift, out of place
like a man returning 
to country changed
As Vets must feel when coming home.

Are we stardust--
And golden?
Billion year old carbon--
And can we get back to the garden?

This poem ends.
But the wounded by war
Feel pain and live with fear
Think of them. 


San Simeon 10/26/12
12:17