Venice Beach, revisited in my mind

where the truth was just out of reach
and the sun set over a beach
where giants trod a generation before
and the peaceful sea mates to the shore.

a place where, as jaffee would sing,
everything could be had, everything,
and panthers and goddesses came
and even one who carried my name.

the magic never faded from where
nothing was so odd as to stare
and nights I would sit in the grey
and immortalize sparks of the day.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.