Vox Populi

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Molly Fisk: Native Landscape

Back then, the new growth on redwoods was the brightest 

green and tasted of citrus, a good vitamin source if you were lost


in the woods, which I wasn’t, I was pure found girl skipping

down Steep Ravine and over Hoo-Koo-i-Koo, walking out


from the dark onto gold hills and the prickle of live oak

leaves under my boots when the trail dipped into a crevice, 


Spanish moss drifting from gnarled arms, joy of that salty 

breeze, the welcome yellow line dividing Rte. 1 into coming 


or going snaking its way into Stinson. Curved miles of beach.

Old wood houses soaked in sea air for years, never completely


dry and bougainvillea tendrils prying up the shingles, pulling

the gates askew. Beautiful scavenger, beautiful disaster


of a flower, paper-petaled, magenta and purple, sprawling across 

the town’s rooflines ignoring orange nasturtium underfoot.


Rampant invading pampas grass white-blond against a cliff face 

and seagulls quarreling over blown trash. Surfers wet-suited and intent. 


Fog hovering off-shore. Nothing owed to anyone. Nowhere to be. 

You couldn’t buy happiness like that, you had to inherit it.

Copyright 2020 Molly Fisk

One comment on “Molly Fisk: Native Landscape

  1. Barbara Huntington
    October 19, 2020

    I am there. I love driving 1. My hikes above Deetjens, watching a whale cross my view from above. Thank you!

    Liked by 1 person

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