I will be in La Jolla

Today  I threw wide

those carved doors that hold

so many souvenirs.

The scent of sandal wood

filled the air and I thought

of you.

By tonight I will be in La Jolla

that  marvel of constellations,

the air as salty as sea lions.

Nostalgia is  taboo among the

honey cake dunes.

Maybe I will stay there  forever

paint everything that flickers

and blooms.

I may not think of you at all.