Everything changes
                   all the time.
The rock solid truth
                   of last year
                   wobbles...

I spent the morning at the Museum of Photographic Arts

watching and listening

and about fifteen minutes 

just before noon 

wondering

how the eucalyptus tree does it...

...just stands there

day and night.

and wondering, too,

who it was and why...

that word written in cursive

not in block letters

on the red curb

at the corner of Park Boulevard

and Normal Street...