Dawn is lurking

Dawn is lurking behind the san francisco cloud wall, and though it is night still in the city I know that across the bay oakland has seen the sun and I know that all those mountains' eastern slopes are flecked  with the green rivets of trees whose roots pin the mountains to whichever certain stretch of sky.  But in the city it is only over the shoulders of mist that slight blue light emanates reminding that come noon the last cloudy fingers will disperse entirely their grip forgotten for a moment under the light.

Prayer from Ocean Beach

I'm learning a new language to reverse time. And it needs both negation and reversal, so we say "we silence" and "we unsay".  We regret, cherish, regress.  In morning the sun may rise, or the fog may cloud it, or the whole great earth may stop its spin, knuckling until it takes on english and the sun sets in the east and--if permitted--rises up again to look down on the world from the west and we in America will then all be chinamen looking with wonder on a day out of the Pacific and the Sunset and the Richmond will see the sun for the first time and it will burn all their hanging fog away.