Today smells like a hot, dry sunset in the desert, despite the cold.
I think of cold places, and I wonder about the bottom of the San Francisco Bay, and the coast of Monterey.
I think of the keyless, sleeping on frozen grates, and the patricians locked in ivory castles
I look up at the silver moon, and I can see the future there.
It makes me think about the cold hearts of old lovers, and the black eyes of crows.
I wonder if I could simply refuse the call of winter, and walk beneath a blazing, lonely sun.
I think of cold places, and I wonder about the bottom of the San Francisco Bay, and the coast of Monterey.
I think of the keyless, sleeping on frozen grates, and the patricians locked in ivory castles
I look up at the silver moon, and I can see the future there.
It makes me think about the cold hearts of old lovers, and the black eyes of crows.
I wonder if I could simply refuse the call of winter, and walk beneath a blazing, lonely sun.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
we all think about the bottom of the bay. that bottom made me pack my bags and move to nowhereland from back east.
"take me back to san francisco and bury my body there"
Thanks for that comment, it made me laugh out loud.