Rooftops shaped like cones covered in moss sticking up high in overshadowing sky. An iron bird spinning in the fierce wind. Salt air off the harbor, fresh, fishy, musty, clean and like old wood. Rain, rain, rain. Darkness and rain in May. The sun catches a few breaks. Then whooshhhhh the rivery sound of the forest taken by wind. Limbs bending twitching shaking twirling breaking. Leaves moving the same way but hanging on by strength of Spring. Charcoal, white and smears of blue palette the sky constantly passing and transforming. On the Mountain of the Sequoias, over the Valley of the Deadwoods. 

The description of weather, is like the wind through teeth, like the wind put into voice. To describe the sun shining is to be outside of time. 

When You're Naked

I'm naked,
Leaning over a typewriter
Holding a cup of coffee
Looking for these letters
Spilling
My gut's out
Fattened by wheat and hops
Flabbed immuscularly
Naked not nude
Nothing sexy
Nothing shrewd
Looking for these letters
To drape some words
To wear around me
So they can get a read on me
Some people can't understand you
When you're naked.