a little song


Cambria, California


When that foghorn blows in twilight’s light,

the wind with the pines becomes one voice.

the moon’s silver flute then announces the night

Waves beat Cambria and beaches rejoice


As we go dancing to drums and guitars

on the band shell in town underneath muted stars


The following morning St Mary’s bells chime

streets and alleyways echo their ringing

unison prayers of churchgoers keep time

with thousands of voices together in singing


Then we go walking to drums and guitars

while people dash everywhere waving at cars


a combination of shadow and bright

frames the facade with windows and blinds

of adobe red shops closed up and locked tight

next to wide open doors with beckoning finds


As  music wafts inside from drums and guitars

while shopkeepers go out to smoke their cigars


When we get home the herons are flying

back to their nests at the end of the day.

A purple fire sky that the sun was supplying

turns to indigo grey and then just fades away.


Music from our stereo plays drums and guitars

The foghorn sneaks in through our deck door ajar


We feel so happy sitting right where we are

We feel so lucky to be right where we are.


~ by dianeklammer on March 28, 2013.

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