Thursday, August 27, 2009

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING

after the fog

gateway to open waters
and storms of the past

I can see it now
from the Berkeley Marina

an alter for this clear day
with my youngest napping in back

two arrows pointing

in the same direction as white sails
the Transamerica building lifting
from the crowding
and Mount Tam

away from earthly yearning to where
searching ends

while Oakland cranes bow
in various levels of praise

~j.b. rowell

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1 Comments:

Anonymous Carter Monroe said...

Really, REALLY, a fine poem.

10:43 AM, September 06, 2009  

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