not every emptiness is meant to be filled
(i hope i got that right, Eve LadyApples)
last night i stood shivering with a small group on the edges of the san francisco bay. first, we looked west from the industrial edge of the oakland shipyards, and then, looking east from yerba buena island, the bright lights of the new bay bridge illuminated us and the water like a permanent full moon. we listened as brave poetic souls got up and shared their previously unsharable words under a broken sky.
it was right.
.::.Filed in bay area gems, not poems | Tagged with NaBloPoMo | Comment (0)