I can't resist the sound of castanets.
Throw in some harmonica minor shit,
and I am powerless to do anything,
but love.
Unlike most of the country,
I miss the snow,
but it is off to the West Coast
I go.
Maybe that red bridge
will inspire my heart to beat faster,
and hopefully I can sit on
those poetic stairs
on which I sat a lifetime ago.
And snap a photograph
of proof.