Mark Tulin writes

De La Vina Street

I like walking in a straight line

or a zigzag

across De La Vina Street,

past parks with bright flowers,

and circle the large oaks

and eucalyptus trees.

I enjoy its wide avenue

with swaying palms,

a warming sun, a mandolin playing,

and the scent of lavender

wafting in the ocean breeze.

I like to hear bluebirds chirping,

see the sparrows splashing

in a marble birdbath,

and watch the gulls soar in single file

like jet fighters overhead.

I like to walk mindfully,

noticing my breath,

the length of my step,

and how my hip feels

with each rotation.

Whether I see the swirling colors

up in the sky

or the mountains covered in a marine layer,

I feel connected

To the street, I love the most,

past Spanish-style homes,

creameries with shakes and splits,

taquerias with bean burritos,

silver-coated Labradors on studded leashes

and purring cats on windowsills.

Mark Tulin writes

Santa Cruz Muse

I saw my muse in a harvest moon

wearing a frilly suede jacket

and a bent Fedora askew

balancing on one leg

making his Stratocaster cry

hopping across the universe

singing songs of injustice

the harm of GMOs

reclaiming the land

that’s rightfully ours

somewhere in Santa Cruz. 

  

1958 Fender Stratocaster

Mark Tulin writes

Special Occasion

I know it’s true love

because you’re here with me

during my last breath.

You’re the only one I want

to share in this special occasion.

It doesn’t bother me

that you remember

how I looked

when I was younger,

or how weak and frail

I am now.

With you, I’m not scared

or vulnerable

but feel safe to let go.

You allow me to leave

on my terms

without remorse

or expiration’s fear.