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Jack London's home across the Bay,
Now crossing the Golden Gate.
Walking through Fisherman's Wharf,
Smelling the entrees as you pass restaurant doors.

While ships passing along the way,
Fishing boats pulling up to the dock.
Crabs are snapping at your heels,
Fishermen are unloading their catch-of-the-day.

Fresh sea air breeze from the shore,
Sunny days and foggy nights.
Smelling the kelp wash ashore,
Whispering sands upon the beach.

Watching  seagulls wait and wait,
For crumbs on tourist trails,
While the sun sets in the west,
Atop the ocean's crest.

Strolling through Chinatown,
Collecting your thoughts.
Sounds of shuffling feet,
With people busily working on a feast.

Buildings taller than Redwoods trees,
Towering over the City by the Bay,
The Financial District, quiet and clean,
Just remnants of a day's work seen.

The smell of coffee grinding,
Chocolate melts, 
Sour Dough bread baking,
Your senses are on fire with taste buds aching.

Driving down the most crooked street,
Turning left; turning right, 
Turning left; turning right,
Winding to the bottom of this twisted hill.

Up the hill,
Down the hill.
Turning right in a wrong way,
And down a one-way street.

Buses honking.
Delivery trucks double-parked,
People yelling,
"Get out of my way!"

The cable car bell clangs loudly,
While the conductor yells, "All Aboard!"
Passengers scrimmage grabbing for seats,
Before the cable car clangs through the streets.

The city sparkles like the stars above,
With the fresh air and sunny days.
Visiting the City By The Bay,
It's San Francisco's beauty that's shone.

©2017 by Lee Christine Brownlee.  All rights reserved.

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