Saturday, November 30, 1985

LA PÁZ (Photos)


Here, in La Páz, the wings of birds
puncture the skin of the sea.
The bite of oleander blossoms
along the malecón remind us of
the proverbs of men and women,
because the birds have nowhere else to go
except for places etched into the walls of caves.

To make the sea, first, one must paint it.

November 30, 1985
La Páz, Baja, Mexico

My lines from a pass around poem at La Perla Restaurant, La Páz, with John Oliver Simon and Julie from Cabo. Maybe someday I'll get around to adding their lines. Or, not.

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