The Changing Light
The changing light
                 at San Francisco
       is none of your East Coast light
                none of your
                            pearly light of Paris
The light of San Francisco
                        is a sea light
                                       an island light
And the light of fog
                  blanketing the hills
          drifting in at night
                     through the Golden Gate
                                       to lie on the city at dawn
And then the halcyon late mornings
       after the fog burns off
           and the sun paints white houses
                                   with the sea light of Greece
                 with sharp clean shadows
                       making the town look like
                                it had just been painted
But the wind comes up at four o'clock
                                     s weeping the hills
And then the veil of light of early evening
And then another scrim
                  when the new night fog
                                       floats in
And in that vale of light
                     the city drifts
                                   anchorless upon the ocean
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Added by Poetry Lover
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