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Archive for the ‘Michael N. Thompson’ Category

The sky looks sedated
Above an open-air café
On Pacific Manor Avenue
And in between coffee refills,
The smell of sea salt & brine
Is more than tranquil
As the pounding surf
Beckons me to its altar

Even though winter branches are bare,
The sunset that hovers
Orange as a campfire
Over foam-coated waves
Seduces like a lover

Bay waters shimmer
With shades of blue
From the pale moonlight
Making even the subdivisions
Along the coastline
Between Daly City
And half Moon Bay
Look beautiful

The low moan of a foghorn
Echoes through the mist
And the wind screams
That there’s nowhere left to fall

So I surrender
This carnival heart
Like a slave
Before its master

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