Remembering Arriving for the First Time in Los Angeles I approach the new city, An abstract infinity of lights spread before me: A maze, a tapestry, and earthbound constellation, Full of beauty though devoid of meaning. But For each and every light in that swarm There is someone For whom that light has a meaning. Next year and the year after and the next, What meanings Will those lights hold For me? Thomas G. Digby written 2300 hr 7/27/71 retyped 0250 hr 9/16/76 entered 1235 hr 4/09/92