Hour 11: A California Motel

Traveling across the Yolo causeway,

I’ve had cool wind in my hair.

But have never given colitas a care.


I’ve stood in a doorway

And glanced over the bay. 

I’ve heard a mission bell

And become drunk off Zinfandel.


I’ve been to a California motel

And heard an echo from a seashell.

It was such a lovely place

With a comforting embrace.

4 thoughts on “Hour 11: A California Motel

  1. This felt like a song or an image from a song to me. There are sensations that no matter how transitory we recall those as strongly as a word someone spoke. This poem resonated for me in just that way. Very nice.

  2. And being an Eagle’s fan, this poem fit for me, too! I was in Mexico and ‘heard the Mission bell’ from a hotel some say was where they wrote the song, “Hotel California”. Thanks for a walk down memory lane!

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