The San
Joaquin Valley is infinite,
Livestock,
wheat, and wine grape vines…
Alfalfa
fields and rivers forever;
Mountains on
the horizon lines.
There is
something about the valley,
Never
letting go of your heart…
You never
forget the hard-working poor,
Or your soft
spot for Mexican art.
I endured
triple digit weather,
Tule fog
that blinded one’s sight…
Looking back
a half century later,
The Valley
still seems “Just right”.
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