That first semester in Berkeley
Four months was not enough to separate from home
The job had not yet happened
Thanks to the Church Divinity School of the Pacific there was food and a room.
It was cold but not like upstate New York.
On subsequent years there would be trips back and forth
Crossing the continent almost became routine
In all this travel the only casualty
Was a briefcase over loaded with cameras
And my only sister’s wedding.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem