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    AC Benus
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Second Sight: Remembering Some San Francisco Neighborhoods - Prologue. Affections

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Affections

 

Shall I raise a lance to remembrances,

Quixotic as the task may be,

And tilt at a verge plant round with blossoms

Shaded beneath my memory? —

Say of crimson, crinkly ivy upon

The gray walls of a freeway embankment;

Or of Christmas-red poinsettia grown

Taller than men from cracked cement?

 

For such sights surrounded in San Francisco

And like passion flowers blue-green,

Burst with Quetzalcoatl’s feathered love tales

In every heart that have them seen.

So of this city’s neighborhoods I’ll write

With some personal reflections,

Blending people, places and their settings

Amid thirty years’ affections.

 

 

_

Copyright © 2023 AC Benus; All Rights Reserved.
  • Love 7
  • Wow 1
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Chapter Comments

On 4/15/2023 at 12:01 AM, raven1 said:

As a youth I visited SF many times.  It was such a thrill for me to go to a city that was filled with many Gay people living openly.  The bus ride from Portland was about 12 hours, but I went with anticipation and left feeling renewed each time.  

Thanks, Terry. I hope you encounter lots that's familiar in the five sections to follow. We'll visit some hoods that I live in, and some that I played in. Good times await :yes:

 

  • Love 3
6 hours ago, Bill W said:

I've never been to SF before, but in a strange way I'm beginning to feel that I have been there sometime, possibly in another life.  

Thanks, Bill. Such things are entirely possible. When I was about 10, my family passed through a Western town we'd never driven into on our vacations. My mother had a strong reaction, knowing where all the streets were; telling my dad to keep making turns until we arrived at a certain storefront. She told us this is where she ran a dance studio in a past life. She said it so calmly, so matter-of-factly, there was no room for equivocations 

Thanks for reading, and I hope you like the rest of the poems of this series 

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