Where is my place in the World?
Where is my home?

where redwoods are burled?

protected by gnomes?

where waves crash the rocks?

of boats by the dock?

that touches blue air?

of crowded Times Square?

reaching higher and farther?

with views of the harbor?

grapes ready to prune?

at a Western Saloon?

remote isolation?

of tombs and cremation?
My place is a harvest
of everything listed.
No one place defines me, lest
l ever existed.