San Francisco 2000 DreamEucalyptus merge with cedar fragrance
pungent bite carresses your coastal noseand you know your place where the park begins
in the north with ten thousand other trees."Do not ask what [park] is it. Let us go
and make our visit." Golden Gate, stupid."The City" dreams of Japan and China, of
war and Han grandparents' gold mountain trunkwhose branches bear ten million silk boxes,
slippers, and persecution memories.You, without a drop of orient blood
can only say "my Indian came from therelong long long ago." Perhaps it be true.
Tom's wife Yumiko said you looked Niha.
Danny Kwan and Ho Mei both swore Chinese."No," you smiled, "Indian, American.
Every red-blooded boy wants to be one."In the park remember it matters little
like trees who can reach the distant starsyet here stand only spark plugs connecting
to real masters: Sequoia & Redwood.Go there if you dare to the place named where.