A Five-Mile Morning, San Diego

A long low sun hangs at the line of earth and sky
scrub on the crests of ravines and gullies and canyons
and tile- and shingle- topped roofs
slide past the red-orange ball, flick shadows on and off:
the dark: cool, dewy; the light: warming.

the sand, the hard pack, the clay
the left the right the breathe
the sand, hardpack, clay
the left the right left breathe
scrub sand asphalt breathe
road sidewalk sand
train tracks.

breathe left right left
breathe parking lot cars
breathe ice rink doors
breathe conditioned air
breathe breathe breathe

--NOTES--
Well, this has been through several variations already. It was an exercise on line breaks, and this is the version I took in to workshop. Maybe I'll post some of the others later... Right now I want to tighten up the first and second stanzas a little. There was some confusion in the first because of the lack of punctuation in the first part. I'm a little iffy on how I want to change it. Must think... (assumes time honored Pooh-thinking stance)