Just Past Arbuckle

Just past Arbuckle
telephone poles list
in tandem.
Shadows cross-hatch
at exit five-five-nine
County Line
and orchard rows swirl
in a mesmerizing polka.
Young branches raised kalani,
a nut tree halau
in graceful undulation.
On a distant hill a vineyard is laid
like a dotted swiss picnic cloth.
I-5 snakes south
shedding its skin
to become
The Five.

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