Spread beneath me it lies—lean upland sinewed and tawny in the sun, and valley cool with mustard, or sweet with loquat. I repeat under my breath names of places I have not been to: Crescent City, San Bernardino —Mediterranean and Northern names. Such richness can make you drunk. Sometimes on fogless days by the Pacific, there is a cold hard light without break that reveals merely what is—no more and no less. That limiting candour, that accuracy of the beaches, is part of the ultimate richness.

Today’s poem for #NationalPoetryMonth
#FlyingAboveCalifornia by #ThomGunn
(a love song to CA, as almost a break in bed) #NaPoMo #poetry

“on fogless days by the Pacific,
there is a cold hard light without break
that reveals merely what is - no more
and no less. That limiting candour,”