The air was sweet
With the smell of salt water,
Mixed with the smell of breakfast and coffee.

It was warm, but not hot.
A slight breeze blew,
Cooling friends as they greeted
And talked quietly.

The man under the canopy
Played an acoustic guitar
While he sang
And played the harmonica.
He has a wonderful voice.

His wife sat with us
For awhile.
He’s an actor in his full time job,
She teaches acting.
She’s funny, and sweet.
They are a great couple.

He has a few CD’s,
And my other friend
Sings on one of them.
I’ll have to buy one next time I see him.
Probably Thursday.

I’ve fallen in,
With exactly the crowd I dreamed of.
Artists, creators
People who follow their own path,
And know what that path is.
They inspire me.

I met the man who runs the
Community garden.
It’s 4 houses down from me.
He’s a nice man,
A good man.

I told him,
Part of the reason I wanted to live here
Was that we saw
“Feed the World” gardens
along the sidewalk.

I wanted to live in a place
That does something like that.

So many people know my house.
The bright yellow one
With green trim
And orange shutters
On the corner,
Down the street
From the community garden.

Every time I pull in my driveway,
I love it more.

It’s a happy life here.
No dark shadows.
No memories of men
that I need to forget.
Every day is a new day
A new beginning.

An 11.
Like my house.
Avalon.