Lights and fogheads

We are reconnecting with friends and family, Sacramento, Berkeley and the City by the Bay. It is good to be here, good to reconnect. 

I was looking through the many gifts of poetry from our friend, Karen, in Tennessee, and I came across this one by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, who is a legend in these parts. 

As owner of the City Lights Bookstore in the City's North Beach, Ferlinghetti gave a place for poets like Alan Ginsberg and Gary Snyder to read their poems. City Lights is still a mecca and worth wandering through for an hour at least, and when you do, that will make you a Foghead like me. 

May you all have many New Years blessings. Enjoy:

The Changing Light
by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

The changing light
at San Francisco
is none of your East Coast
light
none of your
pearly light of Paris
The light of San Francisco
is a sea light
an island light
And the light of fog
blanketing the hills
drifting in at night
through the Golden Gate
to lie on the city at dawn
And then the halcyon late mornings
after the fog burns off
and the sun paints white houses with the sea light of Greece
with sharp clean shadows
making the town look like
it had just been painted
But the wind comes up at four o'clock
sweeping the hills
And then the veil of light of early evening
And then another scrim
when the new night fog
floats in
And in that vale of light
the city drifts
anchorless upon the ocean