The road ends just behind
long rows of upper yuppie houses
cattle graze on hills so verdant green you’d swear
you were in Erin’s land instead of south San Jose
where still some fields grow ruby red fruit shocking
pink flowered cherries can be picked from the trees
mist like dragon’s breath from long lost Avalon
coats the mountainside sliding to valleys below
apricots then follow
popcorn blossoms
a few acres left
here and there
just enough
reminder of
what the valley
must have been
when it was full
orchards instead of
sprawling shoeboxes
Categories: Uncategorized
Eos: The Creative Context 
Leave a comment