"Eden for Peter Pan," a poem

My grand journey would begin with a swan dive. And over that edge, I would fly on. Such a journey it’d be, if we could fly, and I know where my spread arms will steer me. The rooftops from below I can see a world that shouldn’t be there. I may not have wings.

But I have a view from the 32^nd floor.

At my feet flowers look blurred, blue velvet and metallic mist dripping onto matte red that sways with the air around. Pollen like pixie dust lifts off. It tickles the nose of the man seated on bench like stiff kajal.

Flowers grow like children atop a roof. The lost boys of a youth we have moved years beyond.  In this afternoon light they sleep with eyes open, and the approaching evening marks their dance with closed faces under unstrung lights in the ceiling beyond the fog.

Anyone is a lost child here. There’s nothing wrong with falling over the edge, surrounded in splendor.

the crazy things you did for finals week

under circumstances i got into the city via BART by 7 in the morning. what i saw was so motivating and blissful for the beginning of what would be a hard week:

 

before sunrise.

San Francisco before sunrise in the cold of December is the perfect place for getting the genius going and letting loose with the essays i would be turning in for my finals week.

it was also the first of my Blue Bottle Coffee experience, too.

i like this side of a city-- in the morning, at a natural state before it puts the game face on for the rest of the day. the true lady revealed, the secrets exposed, the troubles of the night resolved in the peak of the light coming through the thick rain clouds. 

 a write spot, a cold chill, and yes, agreeably one of the best cups of coffee all before sunrise. ♥ December!