how the loquats hung
juicy and yellow bright
where below nasturium
climbed their orange faces
looking upward through
the branches how blue
Santa Monica skies
return in dreams now
those days of matinees
playing in open fields
long replaced by buildings
where hope first bloomed.
maysa-maria peterson
“If you can see your path laid out in front of you step by step, you know it’s not your path. Your own path you make with every step you take. That’s why it’s your path.” ― Joseph Campbell
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