Mission Street, December by William Taylor Jr.

The soft light of the winter evening
brings a heavy sadness that pushes
the heart

strange clouds gather and the air
smells of coming rain

I wander Mission Street sidewalks
in no hurry to be anywhere

still haunted by the pretty dream
of being something more than death

maintaining my belief
in common miracles

even now determined
to salvage scraps of  joy
from the rubble of  life

scattered bits of kindness
like leaves on the sidewalk
not yet trampled

remnants of abandoned beauty
line the streets like gilded
flakes of gold

I put them in my pockets
to carry home

walking quickly now
as soon the rain will fall

like my tears
like my tears
like my tears.

6 Responses to “Mission Street, December by William Taylor Jr.”

  1. Bill
    Do you ever write a bad poem? Another heart-rending missive from one of the best in SF.

  2. this is an exquisite poem, so vivid with imagery. thank you.
    best, winnie

  3. A melancholy jewel. Its gorgeous.

  4. David M Morton Says:

    Much different than most of the hardassed writing I see lately. It is a good change. I hope to see more poetry like this.

  5. exquisite

  6. Elizabeth Soroka Says:

    Very much a favorite…a lovely sadness about it…

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