ugandabeinsanfrancisco

 A face, smiling, hands, spread, feet, astride, leaves, blown by the wind, a picture, compact with words.

It is a dividend of living, it makes conversation warmer, for shared experiences, increase our bonds, yesterday, I passed by this place, then, it was a staging venue, of a street fair and marketplace, today, I ask myself, where was yesterday’s noise, it is so pristine, like a pressed robe, I recall such events, back in Africa, The other day, on Mariposa Street, I met a man who, on account of my accent, as well as diction, asked me which part, of Africa I was from, I told him, he too, told me about, several memorable journeys, to that continent, the first to Tunisia, then to Egypt, Cape Town, Victoria Falls, Queen Elizabeth National Park, The Murchison Falls, Lake Victoria, I,  had been to some, this gentleman, in his narration, revealed salient points, we both exchanged fond experiences, fond memories were made fonder, the repetition of these experiences and their recounting, revealed a common d

That part, of a longer spine, of a large back, on which, we comfortably nestle, a Walt Disney Park suspended in the air, an entertainment Eden, resplendent crimson arcades, with large arches, towering columns, steeped firmly in the ground, the tips haughtily suspended, piercing into the fluffy clouds, far down below, this loftily spun bridge, is the blue Pacific, whose waters, are forever agitated, the waves slap incessantly, the dark jagged rock mass, and the shiny boulders, smooth and continuously chiseled, from years of rubbing, by the elements and humans, stronger winds fly by in the faces, of in-bound sight-seers and traffic, majestic features are met here, belief and technical feats, a bridge hovers over the ocean, a presentation, an immaculate Pacific, a tunnel into the hillside, a lone Alcatraz in the distant, near gale-force winds,  neither the boulders, nor the hills, give in, a spectacular backdrop