Fine beginnings,

like this one following a night of rain,

keep me staring out the window

even with a juicy book rife with Cassandra, uterus and Spoken

laying open in my lap.

Broken clouds, grey dashed with whipped white,

show palest blue beyond,

and hills across the bay- often obscured- are the storm-lit knees

and craggy thighs of a great woman

resting back in softened arms of earth

growing green.