A flowered curtain
rests
in front of
the street-light.
It's midnight's
witness
to taxi-sounds
and smoldering
cigarettes.
In this quiet
we all
should be loved.
In this quiet
we all
should be friends.
You can count
the foot-steps
between the late-night
pavement
and the beginning
of the ocean,
between the vacant
street-corners
and the roughness
of the kiss
upon the stones,
between the cheap talk
of the alleys,
and the lovers
beneath the sand.
PH
between the late-night
pavement
and the beginning
of the ocean,
between the vacant
street-corners
and the roughness
of the kiss
upon the stones,
between the cheap talk
of the alleys,
and the lovers
beneath the sand.
PH
(c) Copyright Paul Heidelberg
(Written in San Francisco)
(Written in San Francisco)
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