By Lorraine Walker Williams
Golden Gate-Marin Branch
Three short days in San Francisco,
never enough of cool fog draping the hills,
folding the city in softness,
holding it close like a secret
that is mine alone.
The city is best seen on your own once you
have lived there. You have to justify nothing.
Too many memories confront and
comfort: the focaccia in North Beach,
breakfast at Mo’s, Dungeness crab.
Sun seems to invite itself onto the glass
tables, the gleaming floors of what used-to-be
an old Italian restaurant, now serving
red and white thin crust pizza amid
stainless steel.
Walking steep streets down to the wharf,
bougainvillea bright pink on white walls;
the Golden Gate comes into view,
red span towering above a sea
aglitter with light.
Breeze off the Bay still briny sweet, gulls shriek,
dive off piers then perch on the rails waiting
on a Sunday afternoon as we pass
to line up for the ferry to cross the Bay
looking back at the city looking back.
Lorraine, as always, the words of your poetry move right into our hearts. The importance of Place in our lives–the places we remember and love and return to–is shown through these finely chosen details and images.
Karen,
It is delightful to read your generous response to my poem. Thank you!
What a beautiful, evocative poem! The third stanza really moved me–the bittersweetness of treasured memories, times and places gone by–Thank you, Lorraine!
So lovely to hear from you, Claire! Thank you.
Lovely! I feel as if I’m there, thank you!!
Thanks, Sharon. I’m happy my words touched you.
You know you city well. The delightful tinge of nostalgia is eveidence. I the love the Sna Francisco area. Miss seeing the Golden Gate bridge.
Thanks for the comments, Jery.
Congrats, Lorraine! Welcome, newcomers, to Lorraine’s words!
What a kind comment, Chris! Thank you.
We live in California’s Central Valley but go into San Francisco for baseball games and Broadway shows. I can relate to so many details in your poem — the food, the smells, the fog, the steep streets. I especially like your final line, looking back at the city looking back. An homage to a lovely city!
Thank you, Nancy. I appreciate your kind words.