and i laugh

this is not so much a poem as it is a way of life.

there are simple things that i am noticing.

the pace of life here is slower,

men are more humble,

women more beautiful.

it is as if they all know, almost instinctively, it isn't about them.

(these growers cannot will a vine to grow. these women cannot will the sun to shine)

they are all so dependent upon the earth.

and this world is different than the world in new york city.

where everything grew tall there, here we talk about the roots that stretch deep.

and, i laugh.

on the back of a motorcycle, head stretch back to see the stars and catch the wind in my mouth,

i laugh.