from this week in September, 2015 (I was 70)
I changed my opinion of you
when you turned away from the ocean
You stood under the palm staring up the mountain
Such is the place with no third choice
I was there to see you begin the slow ascent
No one seemed to notice your discreet departure
You reached the shadows of the trees
without turning another head
You changed tack to come up the fall line
cast away the anchor to catch the wind
I watched you breathe and imagined the scents
fragrant pine eucalyptus camphor and myrrh
I changed my opinion
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