Wolf Man Doll and Salt Air
I made him tan corduroy pants. He does not have a tail. I guess he’s evolved from a real wolf to a man wolf. He has to be able to sit down in a chair.
Hipster man wolves dig San Francisco and this is where wolf dude is headed. First stop, Tartine. Then he’s off to look for a pair of huaraches.
I think he’s staying with friends, deep in the Mission.
Sometimes I dream of mailing myself to friends in Bernal Heights. I also dream of breezes blowing off the Bay. But here I sit working away. I’ll be in the salty air someday.
Hardly Strictly Bluegrass reigned this weekend in the park in that fair city to the south.
I communed, momentarily, with towering eucalyptus, a curative for all that may ever trouble my mind.
Here’s another — breakfast in Tomales with my sweet, sweet husband Frank. ♥