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I am a human being.
I am a human being,
and I really, really love trees.
I see each one as a sculpture of nature,
capturing space,
and I get high on the abstract balance.
The tree I love most is the Sycamore,
the sexiest tree on the planet.
Whenever I see one....
Whenever I see one,
I exhalt in it like I would witnessing
an amazing animal,
or a woman of pulchritude.
I am a human being.
I am a human being.

Today I thought I was going to begin work on the Othello/R&J translation, but a political phone call as I enjoyed my espresso, down on the steps at Miramar this morning, threw me off, and I decided to go on a photo safari instead. I have this thing for trees, especially sycamores. It was a good safari, got some good shots.

It's so perplexing that the solution to all our problems is attainable, and those who could really make a difference, somehow, for some reason, balk or shy away from it. We'll see what unfolds this next Saturday. I have to admit, just as poetry and literature has transformed in every respect over the past several decades, that what I thought I was going to do with this life, may be a thing of the past. A life caught between the wheels of change, or a life left at a shore where the ship sails on.... It's happened before, in so many ways--things are left behind. I do have a lot of poems I should publish. First the Othello/R&J translation.