Aug 29, 2008 22:41
Soaking in the tub,
Thinking about how everything is in a constant state of change.
People leaving, returning - just for a visit - then dying.
I'd like to think I'm changing as well.
The rock on my chest is slowly crumbling,
As my shortness of breath is diagnosed as strep;
The antibiotics will save the day.
I had never visited the dump before today.
Quite vacant - no towers of filth.
Dropped off some old furniture.
Returned to civilization to pick up my old mountain bike;
A little rusty, but I'll clean it up.
It was exhilarating riding through Clairemont.
The scenery didn't do much for me,
Simply the continuous motion of knee and wheel.
Long naps.
Tall glasses of ice water.
Honey baths.
Summer dies.
biking,
strep throat,
clairemont,
poetry,
summer,
bath