at night
the cargo ship
glows like candle light
flickering cross the bay
a table set
under the moon
which is a full spotlight
through the eucalyptus
whose leaves shutter
and jangle
like a tambourine.
who so ever claims
no culture
no beauty
in this los angeles
has not looked
has not listened
has not inhaled
its life.
all places burned
in our hearts
have it.
Where The Basin Meets The Bay
08 Sunday Apr 2012
Posted in Aesthetic Pleasure, Beauty, Los Angeles, Los Angeles Poetry, Nature, Poems, Poetry, the pacific ocean
Walter Kitty's Diary 
Glad to see your unfortunate break appears to have tempered neither spirit nor muse!
typing with one hand is a challenge and for a while there i thought my muse up and left me for bakersfield…but you can’t keep a painter down for long!
beyond beautiful – can’t stop reading – the haiku-like evocation of a moment in time transports me to that “table set under the moon” – because of your words I want to live where you live, but you are so right that, “all places burned in our hearts have it”…