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Pacific Grove

The power went out in Pacific Grove
Or who knows, maybe the whole peninsula
But you had enough charge on your phone
That we could listen to nearly every R.E.M. song
We skipped “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It”
It seemed a little too on the nose
We hadn’t watched the inauguration
We’d seen enough of that show

So we played cards by candlelight
I believe the power came back on before bedtime
Mornings, you’d do work and I’d buy groceries
I’d make the coffee, you’d make the oatmeal
The wind was wild, and the waves were nasty
Even so, afternoons, we’d walk on the coast
We read about two tourists who were swept out to sea
Taking pictures of each other at the ocean

After you flew home, I mailed you a package
You’d left a purple shirt behind
I’m not sure if I was being thoughtful
Or returning something special
You wanted to be mine

With the package, I wrote you a note
About where I went after dropping you at the airport
On the map, I found the name of a little grove
Where they’d never cut the redwoods
Among them, all alone
The trees beatific
The Catholics would call it sacramental
And that’s still how I think of it

This morning, I put on my raincoat
In a pocket, there’s a pamphlet, I know
It cost me a quarter at the redwood grove
An informative memento
How many times those trees have seen the end of a world
Two thousand years of being alive
How many axes and how many fires
Those giants have survived