someone keeps watch over your footsteps,

pulling for you

no matter where you turn,

eastward or down underneath,

this pretty girl combing her long golden strands

your voice snuggling

so clearly

against her ear

and how many songs have you sung?

how many changes across America

from town to dizzy town

to better realize her sisterness?

you haven't drunk from different waters

until you tasted her point of view

she is another ocean,

you, a blue-billed sea bird swooping,

then resting your salty tired wings around her,

waves gently rising,

drowning you both

back to that hip paradise,

and beyond

3/21/68

Paterson