Arid

When I was young, I remember wondering

whether the Santa Ana River had he capacity

to become as mighty as the Mississippi.

As I stood atop Mt. Rubidoux,

the gully that separated Riverside

from Jurupa seemed wide enough,

having just read "The Adventures

of Huckleberry Finn" for the first time.

My imagination was good then.

And now, there’s a large white crane

towering over downtown in my hometown

near the watering hole where I drink

with friends after work, thinking they will build

something here. They will build something

here. They will build something here.

12/30/2010

Riverside, CA