Tuesday, 7 April 2020


Happy full moon to everyone. The fifty-third Moon Prize on today's full moon goes to Tamara Madison's poem "In San Francisco."


In San Francisco

by Tamara Madison


After work I climb the tall streets
of my neighborhood, up down up down,
toward home, away again, past the bar
that floods the sidewalk with the smell
of despair, up this hill and down the next,
past the drunks on the corner, past
the homeless Rastafarian, up one hill
and down another, past angry kids
with pins in lips. My head swirls
with thoughts that I know are stupid,
dangerous and wrong, but still
they swirl around, around, up one street
and down until finally, just to stop
the madness I make my way to my own
door and into a sea where love roils
pure for the child, sharp and painful
for the man who helped to make him.
I turn the knob and wade into the churning
waters of my terrible mistake.


* * * * *



1 comment:

  1. This holds up as one of the most startlingly powerful poems I have ever read. "Where love roils," all by itself is unforgettable.

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