Tags
California, Los Angeles, Nature, Observations, Poetry, Seasons, Winter
Winter drops like a first time bowler gutter ball
He said
I replied that Winter drops like a curtain at the end of vaudeville
He scoffed, slammed his drink on the table and said
Winter drops like a rollercoaster
I said that’s weak my friend
Winter drops in drips in California
It sneaks up behind you like a stalker
It’s a trickster
You smell it before it arrives
But you doubt yourself
I’m half mad you think
All those other states say we have no seasons
But wait- you know it does because winter drops like the last piece of
Nanas China
Smashes into you like a bumper car and then it’s gone
His slumped body told me it was past last call
He hadn’t heard a word I’d said
I left him there
Face sticking to the bar where someone used the wrong varnish
The bartenders knew what to do with the poor sap
I stumbled home
Looking over my shoulder
Hearing the wind
Smelling snow
Waiting for rain
A sign…
Right On!!