..

.
Portola Valley

Over the slumbering curves

of green on green

sprinkled with tiny houses

delighted with echoes of sunshine

a distant fog stoops to lap us up

like a kitten's bowl of milk

 

a tail winds down the narrow pass

a paw rests firmly in the east

as one shimmering eye nods into the Pacific

 

warmer now, and sleepy

inside a purring belly

from here I can see that

nothing matters so much.  

© Shelley Harrison
www.shelleyharrison.com