A new poem

A trip to the Getty Center in the hills above the 405 freeway in Los Angeles inspired this poem. I've illustrated it with a couple of photos I took with my cell phone.

Getty Garden Bowl

Bougainvillea bowers

stand as sentinels

at the plaza’s edge,

as we start slowly

down the circular path.

The stream,

winding its way

amongst the rocks,

the hydrangea,

and tall yellow grass,

at our side.

We stop to peer

at the succulents beds,

their little puffed-leaves

arranged like swirling

rose petals,

in pale greens

tipped in blood red.

Finally we circle

to the bottom

where the azalea bowl

overflows in soft and hot pinks,

its blooms sucking in

the moisture of the pool
underneath.