Sunday, August 7, 2011

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

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