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.
*
* * * *
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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