Carolyn Miller: Sunset on the 38 Geary
Each face staring straight ahead, no one speaking,
each rider holding the day carefully, like an egg,
past the piroshki bakeries, past the restaurants
selling pho and bulgoki and Shanghai dumplings
and carnitas, past the Church of the Star of the Sea
Carolyn Miller: Street Trees of San Francisco
despite everything
that keeps going wrong—the ginkgos,
opening tiny green fans.
Carolyn Miller: Rapture
When they said the world was coming to an end,
I thought about my brother, his long limbs,
his good shoulders and thick hair, his small
white teeth, his beautiful feet at the end
of the hospital bed.
Carolyn Miller: By the Time
By the time the light reaches us, empty
sunflower fields are pitted with more craters.
Carolyn Miller: Three Poems
And in the evening, after the sun had set
and the birds were alighting in the trees, my mother,
in her housedress and apron and cheap leather shoes
and my father’s dress socks, went out to water the flowers…
Vox Populi 