Soon will be forgotten..

The waves are quiet today, lost for oceanic words, Poseidon is at rest, the creatures of the sea rejoice, peace is rare in January's celestial influence.

Mother and Shea are heading home, back to Magalia, where power ceases to be, for the storm passed to the higher lands leaves deep wounds in the mountain side like teeth marks on a dry bone. Mud takes the trees, the trees take the electricity, the electricity takes the road, the road takes us home, and home is where we are left without power, sitting in front of a fire, boiling water for tea in a black kettle, silent light bulbs that only Tesla could excite, that's comfort.

I don't want to be heard from. I'll come back to the world, but I'll still feel and always be a stranger in a strange land, just need to learn to gork or jork, can't remember the term, really doesn't matter, for you won't see it happen.

Skeleton ship, and phantom wind don't bother us here.

Grey haired Mendocino seen a many darker day.

The sun, moon, stars, trees, all useless to us without love.