In the early morning

there is nothing like driving east

on Sherman Way in the San Fernando Valley.

Not too many drivers

on the road

the view of the Verdugo mountains

are straight ahead. 

The Verdugo shine with a blue gray hue

recalling my youthful wild days.

The street is lined

with dark green pepper trees

blocks of brilliant yellow mustard greens

freely enhanced with

miles of tall brown, yellow wheat weeds

What is left of a wild valley?

It is a cool windy day

the will-o’-the-wisp

goes around and round.

Made up of different colored leaves

memories that stir within me.

Coolness on clothes

distance of windy gray sky

maybe rain will fall

onto the concert of

the Los Angeles River

Parallel to

the Verdugo Mountains.

Prehistoric blue gray mountain range

wild dew memories

inspire feelings

I am getting younger

not older.

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Poem By Hudley