It was near dawn, you and I
Were hiking up above Ojai
Trying to get there before the sun
When a helicopter: N seven six, five two one
Flew over our heads and we laughed
And said the county government just passed
And recorded our journey today.
The joke we took the time to share
Is that L.A. County would really care.
Then we continued on the way.

That was the day I discovered
That a city like L.A. roars.
It’s a sound that is much more
Than just normal noise.
It is a kind of urban voice;
A chorus of sounds blended
Out where the city has ended
You don’t hear the cars
And buses, out under the stars.
You the moan so clearly;
A deep-throated rumble nearly
Inaudible, more felt in the soul.

We had reached our goal;
The top of the mountain,
So we uncorked the Boda bag
And treated ourselves to a sip
Another joint for the trip
Up under the heavens.
We had started at eleven
Just hiking, and enjoying
The heat. L.A. had been boiling
But now there was a breeze.
One of the things that please
In stifling Southern Cali.

We had driven through the valley
And then parked at the piedmont;
The foot of this big gentle mountain
And like two night-seeing supermen
We hiked and laughed and joked
Taking that occasional toke
We covered the few miles up
Just to stand on the top
And look over a huge metropolis
That was too much on top of us
During the week, so we fled
To see something else instead;
A treat for both our eyes.
A splendid summer sunrise.

Brent Kincaid


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