Sweet Mountain Pie

I love your sweet potatoes
fresh dug earth smell
condensed milk
and red Carnation label:

The danger of your warm cinnamon
your too unflinching eyes
round as your breasts,
your mountain pies
adventuring into my senses

Unchanneled
you defy reality
and so define your own:
make mother sweeter
make gray skies blue
etc

Where are you my love?
Where is my brown skin girl?
My Southern Belle lost
No longer ringing?

No Skype
no urgent cell phone
no sound of San Francisco buses
in the querulous warmth and
straight-ahead light of
only San Francisco

I miss your troubles
and concerns;
long unburdenings
of your little girl
over the echoing line
our two-city cyber-room half green
half log cabin

You packed, I know
You left and are on your Great Journey;
I hope you're safe!
It is a wild world out there.