2044. On Solitude

I see yachts

Lots

Lone

Without

Owners

Ripples

On water

A beach

Without sand

Sailboats

Distant

On the bay

Oakland's

Mounts

Barren

And whitecaps

Fast moving

Away

Pale

Blue

Skies

Shine

A flag waves

A jogger passes

The scene is

Tranquil

But lacking

Joy

Life in San Francisco

2043. Natural Truth

It's not your fault

That I loved you

And you cared not

For me

What is there

To blame

In your behavior

You lapped up

My attention

And purred

In the glow

Of my affection

How could I

Hate you

For being true

To your nature

Observations, Dating