we are level with the bay
near palo alto,
the sun is a staple in the
sky, in blue delight,
the wind whispering
overcast in san francisco
we bring jackets from
the san jose hills,
the mustang purring
familiarity with the
smoothness of the road
under us
i admit this being my
first time behind the wheel
of a convertible,
invigorated, every inch
of asphalt a new world,
every smile of yours
reassurance that the unknown
city
shall welcome me with
open arms
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