Hope and L.A.

Saying goodbye is the rising onramp to the 91 East
At Manchester where the high and lifted lights
Cast a parking lot glow on the ramps ascending
And descending the concrete ladder of Los Angeles.
Heaven is just over the grey railing there,
Yes, we are on the edge of heaven. See the moon?
She's dolled up in gold just across from us;
She's our sister like never before--we sit
Side by side and watch those fireworks as they burst
Above the peaks of Disneyland. You could almost grab
The strawberry sparks and hold them in your soft hands,
Perhaps roll their prickles around on your palms,
Perhaps throw them back with a laugh, and then turn,
Like the world, like our sister the moon,
And snuff with a puff into shadow.