San Francisco (1949)

San Francisco (1949)

Climbing up to heaven, climbing
Inside memory's hazy scent of lilies
In the gold late afternoon.

San Francisco 1949,
Was when we climbed Coit Tower and struck gold,
and golden tears poured out my eyes.

I looked at her, so young, a face of heaven
gazing out the tower window,
gazing at the bay,

the fog, a rolling blanket, folding,
curling, smoking, drizzling, lusting,
bleeding out the Golden bridge.

With latched eyes we saw each other breathing.
Fevered kisses, grasping cold, holding the others breath,
we lit cigarettes, and laughed and laughed.

Music