chocolate is a verb

colors, flavors, whims and other growing things

found poem: I was

found poem: desperate

found poem: Moon

found poem: we named mountains

found poem: TASTING

found poem: reality

found poem: map

found poem: fifty shades

found poem: rainage

found poem: at the Museum

found poem: In the eyes

found poem: because

found poem: surrendering

found poem: the river

found poem: in the trees

beginning

DAK - Death ValleyWho was this Dorothy? This boot-clad woman in the sweater I’ve never seen? What rough camp is this, with its big tables and bright windows? She isn’t posing, might be in the middle of saying something, in the middle of relaxing from a hike in the chilly afternoon.

The undated photo is likely from my parents’ honeymoon, December in Death Valley. They would have driven east and north from Los Angeles, across mountains and desert, filled with their own heat and promise, to reach this place of ghost towns and abandoned mines, this not-yet-a-resort. She was from a life of fur coats and Oysters Rockefeller, he the rabbi’s son with too many war years in the Army.

They would find their way, starting in this parched landscape of a zillion stars, set aside the familiar, the comfortable, to begin what might then have seemed the perfect union.

Sonic Boom!

found poem: the second

found poem: in mash-up

found poem: fascinated

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