I was on my spin bike a few days ago watching a video of a bike ride on the California Coast Highway or Highway 1. The ride went through Big Sur and having recently read Jack Kerouac’s book, Big Sur, this came to mind.
coast Highway
midnight run
soft night
top down
wind in hair
radio on
bebop sax
full tank
last joint
last beer
stoned?
drunk?
both?
don’t care
pacific fog
headlights
taillights
big sur
bixby bridge
been nowhere
being nowhere
We are all just babes in the woods.
A deaf person who has been pleasantly stuck in a dimension between dream and reality, where my sign language turns into written poems.
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Words To Think On
Welcome to a blog about our outdoor experiences.
Poetry written by Katrina Cain
poetry/poem, essays, writing everything I adore or not so:-)
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