Clutterwhere I grew upskies are bigthe foreground is smallthe horizons are vastand the only times away from home that ever felt like this part ofhomewere the many timeslooking west into the oceanwhile leaning against the end rails of Pacific piersand thanking God that there was nothingto see but seeingevery once in awhileeven where i now livei leave the valley and find my waysouth and west enough that i can seethe seeing and be with out clutteri suppose this is what writing poems is to me