I'M WORRIED
ABOUT SYMBOLS
(Ianthe)
Closing the book, I look up to
see lights - they are broad and
yellow, as if enforcing sunlight and
warmth. Golden Gate Park comes
to mind - all that crystal and silver
light, like water, dripping down
from Geary Street. What are
things anyway, but ideas?
2 comments:
Geese don't fly mistakenly West for the winter as they possess an inherent fowl GPS. Salmon press against the current as their proverbial loins will them too. I've heard Elephants are picky about where they die. I have lived in New Jersey almost 37 years and still if asked I will cite, Berkeley, my place of birth as where I'm from. Each year the ancestry tree withers a bit more, but I still feel like it is home.
I liked your poem, especially the reference to Geary, the cross at Lombard near where my father was born. Peace.
Thank you, Tuckoo, that was wonderfully put. I am honored - as cheesy as that may sound - to have received your words. They represent to me a poignant echo refective of the idea I tried to put forth, which, in this case, found a home and place to ring true within your own life and feelings. Thanks. GI
Post a Comment