When I woke up Tuesday morning, the skies over Nob Hill were magnificently clear. Despite its very accurate reputation for fog, San Francisco can be remarkably bright. When that happens, the skies are a blue like I’ve never seen anywhere else except in dreams.
Having come down from the rainy Sierra foothills the night before, I felt like I’d crossed dimensions. I thought about gold miners — the original 49ers — coming down from their claims with pouches of nuggets and dust, all riled up for some Barbary Coast debauchery, whisky and prostitutes and dice.
Anyway, that night my son and I grabbed some sushi at a favorite place in the Inner Sunset, walked around, and went to bed at a reasonable hour.
Here are this week’s seven haiku, and their snail-mail destinations.
haiku 20230116 >> El Dorado Hills, CA USA
MLK birthday I still have a dream
haiku 20230117 >> Taos, NM USA
polk street monday we wander the quiet air in search of dinner
haiku 20230118 >> Londrina, PR Brazil
crossing the bridge into san francisco still in love
haiku 20230119 >> Prescott Valley, AZ USA
second street café red brick and my longing both exposed
haiku 20230120 >> Columbia, PA USA
barber shop floor how has the world not filled up with hair?
haiku 20230121 >> McKinney, TX USA
nevada city rain the seat of gold country turns to iron
haiku 20230122 >> Petaluma, CA USA
late january in the shade, it's winter in the sun, spring
There you have them, and even baker’s half dozen! See you all next week.
And don’t forget, if you want a haiku postcard just for you, all you gotta do is ask.