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Market Street

Walking in soft
November rain
the sky is dark
the air is alive
the street shines
the city sleeps
and I walk
the old path
down the hills
drawn to the bay


3 Responses

  1. Reblogged this on It's All About the Journey and commented:
    As I was reading this, I wandered through Emerson and stopped when he wrote: “…we are not permitted to stand as spectators of the pageant which the times exhibit: we are parties also…”

    Become a part of this glorious Universe…

  2. Once more, you have put me there.

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