The street light pole glows love vibe gold, pairing with my heart. As a young man, I employed angry fists and a tender heart to make my way. I got familiar with street light poles in movies before discovering my first for-real ones in a big city far from my farm roots. Bums leaned against them in tattered clothes and smudged energy fields. I hadn’t met such a figure before and gave them a wide berth with sideways glances like a fast-shutter camera storing data.
Street light poles support illumination, either cool white gold or a love vibe yellow. I hatched a system of transitioning between the two ends of the range, melding with bums and casual reporters leaning in for a moment of reprieve from pedestrian traffic. I check in through a Portal with a sign above the lintel: Wine Stained Territory. The bums taught me about smells caught in the clothes, and the reporter coached me on taking notes.
Beaches are great places to find polished staff sticks. I see one, the perfect weight and fit in my hand, and sticking an end into the circle center sand, creating an anchor pole to swing and dance from, clearing a 360-degree territory.
The bums huddled at the base of street light illumination, and the reporters slouched against the upright stanchions to scribble notes. I worked the range, swinging from streetlight pole to streetlight pole, seeking yellow glow love vibe pools to bask in.
