Rob S. Friedman
October 2020
San Diego Sunrise
III and III and III Then XI peals Each a caress, a Carmelite stroke Smoothly wresting sleepy dreams From canyon dwellers
Hours earlier The coyotes called Their own measured sadness Filled the canyon Then two owls Softly rousing one another Each from their own eucalyptus branch Reaching beyond the cliff’s edge
We all share South of 8 East of 5 West of 15 The whoosh of tires Constant, nearly indiscriminate Forcing our attention From the sonorous morning givers
Each morning they reveal me An incursion An alien
Rob S. Friedman 