Henry McCone

California

Evening--
purple shadows on the hills--
scattered lamps, like land-locked stars
That sparkle on the hillsides and down along the shore--
seabreeze stirring in the orange grove--
soft, incessant pounding of the waves
That break in phosphorescent loveliness
And sigh along the sandy shore--
deep, unfathomed greenness of the garden--
the gentle flutter of a waking swallow
In the ancient olive tree-
rich, entrancing fragrance of gardenias--
laughter of the water on the rocks--
soft Spanish voices--
a lad's guitar, muted and gentle that lays ...