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.