Well you live, in a tiny bungalow. With a Dutch wooden door, and a pot belly stove. You wear marlboro boots and buckskin jackets. Sewn by the love of your many ladies' hands.
And it rains here. Everyday since I came,. And the linen covers rocks. And the green finds everything. Chimacum rain. . In the soar of leaves. And needle tufts and form,.