Facing the window to the West,
I watch the sun drop into the Pacific –
just beyond my ken –
the sun lights San Francisco as it falls,
its last rays glittering on the towering eucalyptus that frame my view.
Suddenly – a wave of grief –
a balmy summer night
on the shore of Lake Michigan,
my brown summer arms
swinging from the top arc of a Ferris Wheel,
sniffing languid air,
floating above the beat of music,
young people dancing at my feet.
Suddenly –
I am in this darkened room.
The memory, gone.
I sit, in the grief.
