I surveyed the map
watching the maritime blues,
yellows, beiges,
permeate gaps, absent
of homes, wrecking yards.
Then I was over L.A.,
watching San Gabriel
bound into transparency.
A bell chimed, a clock
struck a new light year.
The dusty grid below,
paled, diaphanous.
The vast sheen of sea drew,
the jagged crystalline.

And then it was gone.

The action abated at once,
the crumbling of soil,
the fading hues.
The only constant
(I traced it with my finger)
was the hard line,
where the sea
met the edge of land.