Last Day at home in Sweet Home Alabama.  Longer post tomorrow! Until then, here’s a great poem (which sounds eerily like my future).

Bay Poem from Berkeley By Sandra Cisneros

Mornings I still

reach for you

before opening my eyes.

An antique habit from

last summer when we pulled

each other into the heat of groin

and belly, slept with an arm around the other.

The Texas sun was like that.

Like a body asleep beside you.

But when I open my eyes

to the flannel and down,

mist at the window and blue

light from the bay,

I remember where I am.

This weight

on the other side of the bed

is only books, not you. What

I said I loved more than you.

True.

Though these mornings

I wish books loved back.

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