The Barrier

There’s a trail in Palos Verdes

the locals know nothing about.

It runs through their backyards

and separates them from the rest of

Torrance, Lomita and Redondo.

It’s barely noticeable from residential streets.

And barricaded by a row of eucalyptus trees.

Runners, bikers, bums

know this road.

But those in their multi-million dollar homes

know very little about this primitive dirt road

that traverses

chaparral canyons,

riparian woodlands,

rolling green hills, and

knolls with yellow and purple wildflower blooms.

But it’s there. A physical barrier

separating them from neighbors

only a few yards away.

Separating them from two worlds

only a few steps away.

But this trail remains

unused, unexplored

by those that live near.

Like the ravines hidden

under suburban sprawls.

And the creeks diverted to

concrete and plastic storm drains.

It’s all there

if they care to look.

It’s all there

if they care to know.

The primal line

of dirt

is a wall

between the well-to-do

and the elite.

Yet the elites

don’t see it

from their house

or streets

and not through

the eucalyptus trees

that walls them in

from the rest

of the world.