I stared down at Map
watching the maritime blues,
yellows, beiges
seep between places where
houses would be.
Then I was above L.A.
watched San Gabriel range
bound into transparency.
the dusty grid below
the vast sheen of sea
and then it was gone.

A silence gripped me,
I saw the scene progress
quickly, endlessly onward.
The crumbling of soil,
the fading hues
The only constant,
(I traced it with my finger)
was the hard line,
where the sea
meets the edge of land.