Ship’s Haven is small-town;
we only have a few tall buildings,
three stories high,
not like in the city.
I follow the winding sidewalks,
look at every crack,
wonder if they came
from the earthquake.
Pretty soon the sidewalks end,
and turn into dirt roads
that wind past the redwood park
and into a forest.
The houses are big and old,
with long winding driveways.
My grandfather says that
some of these fancy houses were built
when people got rich in the gold rush.
They were here long before
my grandfather and Mrs. Li
and most of the others on Main Street got here.
But some are just people who work in the city
and need a place to get away.
I walk along the tree-lined paths,
oak, spruce, and fir,
the houses decorated for Halloween
with jack-o’-lanterns in the windows.