This is a view of the two oaks
on Mt. Chardonnay
from the west slope.
It’s windy and almost spring.

when summer comes and the heat,
i wait for evening and the cooling


winds as i run to the top of mount
chardonnay to dance a perfect


dance beneath the ancient oak or
sing the perfect summer song


as the gray sea fog rises towering
into the warm night air covering


the valley and all its shimmering
lights with clouds of water


the earth and sky. and then, even
the dancer. yes. even me.