and a green-ringed mermaid.
over billowing white.
I read past and future in the foam:
Wall-size windows frame the present.
Desert trees waver against the morning sky,
Dogs stroll their humans past the
Moving sale on the sidewalk.
In dart young’uns with palmdroids and
out again with gigantesco double-shot mochatattias.
The fossils cleave to newsprint and Sunday leisure.
Yet the greybeard in the easy chair is e-booking
and the hipster at the corner table has Moleskine.
It’s strange but comfort that
like Grandmother’s quilt and Dad’s advice,
wherever you go, here it is.