It's true, I guess: We see what we want to see. IN BALBOA PARK TODAY a row of crepe myrtle trees all naked in the warm winter day reminded me of the bold sculpture that never fails to get my attention whenever I am in Florence.
Gods come and go and even half-gods,
ask Hercules about Antaeus, never win
all the time so get ready for the day
when contact with Earth is finally lost.