We were quiet.

Surrounded by damp
warm air we didnt
move for fear
of disturbing them.


She misses California
in ways that have
               surprised her.
The water of course
and the warm
winds that come
out of the canyons.

Those were givens
but where
are the pomagranates?
      What is this longing
for ivy lawns
and shiny slime
trails on morning walks?