Cruizin into love…
…the land of honey, milk and decaf
In the morning fog of Santa Cruz, California I see tomorrow, and it is coming as fast, and steady as the notes of Foggy Mountain Breakdown by Flatt and Scruggs.
As I write I’m drinking a decaf. It is creamed up, and with honey. I feel cool mist settling on my cheeks like butterfly kisses from a lover’s eyelashes.
I have missed being home. I have been here just under two weeks, and tomorrow I am leaving. I will miss it; I will miss my home.
The sun is begining to dominate the fog now, but the soft wind still chills my face with a sure, steady breeze, and like the taste of a lover’s breath lingering for a brief moment just after a kiss, makes me want this to be something that will last, and last, and last… .
I drink my decaff, and make a try for my best shit eatin’ grin.
Aloha Baby… I love you.
- -
Okay,
Father Luke
