A Place


The faces keep on changing.
No player ever stays the same.
You and I keep right on moving.
Another place, another game.
And the pace of life, it’s tiring.
Wasn’t meant to be this way.
I’ve a place that’s meant for easing
out this heavy time of day.
Over a river heading eastward.
Against a wind that’s western bound.
On an hill they call Solano
stands my castle made of sand.

1982, October

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