September 21, 1971 (I was 26)
Cabin 89 Sunol
There’s something about wood
that makes me feel good
Walls stained only with age
ceiling and beams
exchanging breaths with me
open and receptive
rather than painted reflective
I believe they release energy
to make room for mine
and what I breathe of them is fine
old images mellowed myths
fit for ballads sung with lutes
secure fables from the past
Truths lived here seem to last
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