Ode To S.F. - 1964
I miss the mist
that kissed my face.
I miss the joy
of hills that race
to catch the bay.
I miss the life
the Monk tones,
the cable car bell,
the foghorn groans
that filled the bay.
I miss the Coit
and the Golden Gate
the parks with
views so great
of the endless bay.
I left my love
my life, my soul
in the city so warm
in a life gone cold
by the beautiful bay.
Copyright © Sue Mason | Year Posted 2007
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