• Carly Feinman

Day 78- 11.3.20

Cezar Chavez Park


The bay pulls up

on the coastal rocks like

a car that’s finally found

a parking spot

which is to say

easily and with

great gratitude.


Each ripple coming towards

the yellowed grass, the kites

on the plateau,

is a siren song of



Dogs, thirsty and covered

in dust, rule the dirt paths and

children rule the flat pastures,

running and falling and

running again.

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