Ode to San Francisco

This city's air fills my chest as warm coffee. To inhale is to take a deep sip of delicious, aromatic drink.

That there might be any greater pleasure than to walk its streets on a sunny Sunday morning, I shall forever doubt.

There is a smile on the visage of every passer-by, as they jog, or bike, or perambulate along the charactered walkways. Gulls hover overhead - or sit patiently on the stone walls by the Bay; their sea-stained feathers match the white splotched rocks. They look at home as chameleons on tree-bark.

There is an encapsulating fog that masks the tops of the two pylons on the Golden Gate. It bounds the love radiating from the most beautiful city on earth.