my place

Monterey, Alta California

 

The pines were so tall
that I was sure they tickled
the soles of God's feet.

They swayed gently as the wind
rushed up Prescott Avenue.

At night I could hear
the murmuring and rustling
of the pines sighing
far above me as I lay
in bed in my aunt's tiny
house, the little house

on the hill that overlooked

all of Monterey Bay

from Santa Cruz to Point Lobos:

the lonesome groan
of the foghorn, faint whispers
of the waves frothing
at the jagged rocks festooned
with shiny blackish-green kelp.

 

Since I was young, since
that time when I understood
the concept of place,
this place belonged to me,

filled my heart and held my spirit.

 

The rest of the world

paled when held up to compare

to my place -- none so

fragrant, none so vivid, none

so full of comfort and warmth.

 

Whenever I have returned here

in all the years of my life,

something inside of me,

like a lost puzzle piece,

comes together to make the whole.

 

Now my dream has come true.

In my years after leaving

the grind behind,

I have returned to Monterey

to walk with the ghosts

along the beautiful curve of the Bay,

to revel in the fog rolling in.

 

All around me

born and bred in Monterey

pass by me,

no recognition in their eyes.

They think this place

belongs to them.

 

They do not know.

This place is mine.

 

 

Reviews

[Angi]

I have never felt like I really blonged to a place. I certainly have never felt like a place was mine. How wonderful that you can get this sense. How peaceful it must be to feel yourself click into place like that. This piece is full of imagery and a simply stated suredness. I love it. Angi~

[Rita L. Sev]

You invite the reader into your place graciously... so lovely!

The pines were so tall
that I was sure they tickled
the soles of God's feet.

These opening lines made me smile - what a great image!

[Pryde Foltz]

I was transported what a beautiful, descriptive, and expressionistic piece. Loved it.

[Frieda P]

How utterly enchanting, well Monterey, who wouldn't be? Love that first stanza, it set the tone for the entire read, this personifies 'a safe place of fall'....outstanding minichinz!

[annie lee]

Thank you, Frieda.

[Karen]

This poem is beautiful! It is so rich not only in imagery but in fervent emotions of pride, possession, and reverence. There is a conversational tone to it as well that does not take away from the poetic beauty of it. I have this same feeling of oneness with a particular place on this beach in Costa Rica. Though frequented by various families, it is mine and the nesting place of my childhood. Though writing about it has not come close to this beautiful poem. Thanks so much for letting me read it and enjoy it so much!

[annie lee]

Thank you, Karen.

[Sami Khalil]

"along the beautiful curve of the Bay,

to revel in the fog rolling in.



All around me

born and bred in Monterey

pass by me,

no recognition in their eyes.

They think this place

belongs to them.



They do not know.

This place is mine.'

You are so right. People whohave no connection to the place will not appreciate as much the magnificent beauty for they are just passers by. They have to breathe the air in their lungs and color their imaginations and appreciate the simple things like you have described...A splendid poem...:)

[annie lee]

Thank you, Sami. I was beginning to feel alienated here. I kept on getting Read Requests with no reciprocation -- you, however are always kind, reading my posts and saying lovely things. I have been ultra busy because I am embroiled in two short stories, words tumbling out at a dizzying pace. One is a paranormal, one is pure fantasy, fey and funny. Plus my kid brother is going to make a two day visit next week -- and my poor house looks like an archeology site, layers upon layers. Four years of PTSD and lupus snapping at my heels has certainly erased my Betty Homemaker award. I'm not whining too much here, I hope.

[Sami Khalil]

Wow. Good luck in all...You are welcome...:)