Unchanged Capistrano

    Even though some time has passed
    since my previous visit here,
    other than the seasons, certain
    things don't ever change in Capistrano;
    even swallows know this truth.
    Bougainvillea branches, laden
    with masses of ruby and apricot leaves,
    twist through the trellis above me.
    Patches of blue sky peer through papery blooms,
    making checkered shadows on my feet
    as I walk beneath the overhang.
    Sea breezes blow inland between the hills,
    swaying palm and eucalyptus branches
    back and forth in unison.
    Today I visit Capistrano.
    Over the years I have forgotten her beauty.
    Now the mission bells seem to ring out
    a heartfelt reception.
    As if to greet me once again, a swallow
    nods down from a graceful Spanish column,
    and we welcome each other back.