in the middle of rain laden days the clouds blew over in magnificent volume, while allowing a warm June sun to shine through. allowing for enjoyable walk after a quiet ride up on Caltrain, to the northern end of the line, 20 minutes spent reading the various transportation signage, getting bearings with the pace of the city alive, alive, alive with people on and off the trains, buses, trolleys, and cabs coming and going, arm and arm, with dogs, with umbrellas, with briefcases then, the face of a friend in the crowd guides the next leg of the journey, we continue together several trains, turnstiles, and levels underground later we arrive for lunch just like that, we get a comfortable booth where thoughts and conversation pass around with the burritos. refreshed, we venture out on foot again walking, just enjoying the freshness of the air that cleansing light breeze after rain our silence of shared thoughts as partial conversations waft in, then out passing through surrounding people, like turning the knob on the radio and changing the frequency i feel like the antenna in this wondrous flow of energy downtown, south beach, south park, south of market, the flea market somewhere south, where the sun shines the water greets us between weathered warehouses, and eroded pilings of long gone piers as the golden bridge looms and a small local park provides a perfect panoramic view, i move my head around and store this presence in my mind. brick and glass carve silhouettes under the cloud filled sky, while on the bay side, a single sea lion dips up and dives creating quick ruffles in the waves. breathing deeply the ocean laden wind, feeling replenished, realizing i had not recognized the length of drought, so breathing deeper again. oxygen, pure oxygen, in a compressed state, he lays evenly compressed, feeling more alive again and counting those moments of bliss. taking slow deep breathes, so as not to use up too rapidly what we have left. not really sure where i am, not sure where i am going but fine with that, and confident that it is right. going south on the local, after a day of shopping, we strike up a conversation like old friends, weighing the differences between the cities we've lived in as we walk to our train, i find first a penny (tails up) then a dime i'd have to say, i have witnessed many miracles today.
the energy of this thought poem is directly derivative of an afternoon with Thomas. it would be the last time i saw Thomas.