Wednesday, January 12, 2005

You Still Have All of Me

in winter i lie beside hills
of banked poetry, making angels,
still and cold.
the upsurge of sensual verse
and an endless love
follow me from sausalito
to the san francisco bay.

everywhere i go,
i am the city's lover. i celebrate
and rush towards her shores
with an awkward motion, each gust
an unspoken longing,
stirring within.

the seasons blur
and carry with them the scent
of sonoma wine that circles
high above the skyline.

i remain alive in here,
the sound of the ocean at dawn
captures me---
with the softness of a tear
that idles beneath my lid
and i will write each chapter
of my life beside her
as grapes bend over
the mountains,
fading into a falling sun.

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