Waking In San Francisco
The sun did not rise with me this morning.
The cold, grey mist was there
Embracing all the places
We had been the night before.
The music, too, was gone;
And emptiness enfolded me
Like silent fog
On city streets.
Were you ever here?
Did we sing a song
And dance in the moonlight . . .
Embrace, laugh, and
Hold each other?
I cannot find you now.
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