Where I'm at

The landscape from one corner, say, Miami, up to the East coast, say, the District of Columbia, to the far West end, say the Bay Area, where the end of the land mingles with warmth, swarming intersections of cultures & setting bouts of fog, and the large Pacific drifting into land curling into water, sits somewhere a guy with his duffel bag as a seat, trying to take it in.
 
Likewise,
 
A platelet gets swept on turning buses at the corner, small sedans, ferries across the waterways, Greyhound transfer-to-Greyhound, that shuttle to the airport & liftoff, the rail, the subway, the underground, the by-foot, and all that weaving through this big biology of nation, and when you just sit, you breathe and look around, and the mind refreshes, taking a large breath itself.
 
Where I'm at,
 
Simply looking for that hole I call home, to call home, anyway you want to put it, all of this, any of it, I'm just trying to figure it out for my kids (yet before having kids), from them to my parents, and all in between and what I look back on, in my attempts to understand it, like a movie, and then I come back to my one and only self, selfishly, always.  The All-American kid, with a little bit of that something else, to add, wanting not a bite but for them to take a bite out of me.
 

...Hell of a first blog.  I will get no readers this way...