Spare The Air

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Spare The Air

It’s lunch hour in San Francisco on a foggy day. The sun tries to shed some light on the subject burning through the layers of car exhaust and jet streams from the nearby airport. The rush hour is in full force as drivers slowly move in lines like ants on the various freeways trying to free themselves of their cars. The local news station warns residents that it’s a Spare The Air Day.

Seated on a park bench near the bay munching on a sandwich the view is amazing. The yellow, orange and crimson streaks of color in the sky are beautiful. The sun is weaving in and out of the cloud layer making the afternoon light look magical. Without some pollution, the colors would never be quite like that. I am reminded of how a little smog can still be admired and enjoyed.

noon sun shimmers
a bayside Kodachrome moment
spare the air lunch hour

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Photography by +Woojin Yu follow his work on Google+.

A haibun written with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub. In California, a Spare The Air Day is when the air is still and polluted to the point that making fires in fireplaces, burning garbage and other things that could add to the problem are prohibited until further notice. This is because we have very strict pollution laws. Although this picture looks like total pollution it’s mostly fog which we have a lot here. Despite my words, California has some of the best air in the US because most of our pollution goes down to the central valley.

The Boom Boom Boom

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The Boom Boom Boom

I feel the bass
############EXPLODING
through my body
###############with the boom
#########boom
###############boom.

As the electric guitar
##################SCREAMS
#######over the notes
of the opening song.

The music SMELLS
#####like an alleyway
in San Francisco

####where you get a BUZZ
########just by passing by.

The people stand
#####in lines
############waiting
at the venue
and the music
#############SPILLS
#################outside
into the streets.

So
#####singular
and beautiful
############the notes

#####as they CASCADE

 

###############down.

Bouncing
#########off the buildings
with the bass
############EXPLODING
########with the boom
##boom
########boom.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

Photography by Lorenzo Montezemolo. An old poem I wrote about a place I used to live and love shared with my friends at Poets United.

Painted Ladies

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Painted Ladies

Primary colors
bright painted places
all dressed to kill
with wooden faces.

Historic old homes
begging attention
just don’t ask their age
it’s a bone of contention.

Sitting so prettily
rows upon rows
ladies in waiting
in their best clothes.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

Photograph by Gary Lo a friend of mine on Google+. (To see more of his work click on his name.) Written for Saturdays Image Write #7. Please drop in and join me for an image write each Saturday. Also linked to Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads for the theme home.

Haibun #2717

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haibun #2717

Late in winter biking by
I heard a piercing skyward cry
I saw a large bird in the sky
an eagle looked me in the eye
I stopped a spell to watch it fly.

As I continued on my way
along the San Francisco Bay
the waters being calm that day
I watched the shorebirds interplay
stalking the waters for their prey.

the snowy egret
serves dinner
with a splash

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

I talk, write and live bicycles because it’s made me so healthy and happy. I ride my bike from my apartment to the San Francisco Bay Trail every other day. This is an area of woods, natural harbors, wetlands, tidal pools and all the creatures that live there. I often take photos and write about them like today.

The photographs (3 frames) were taken by James Graham (my roommate) and animated by me.

Written with dVerse~Poets Pub for Haibun Monday and shared with Imaginary Garden Of Real Toads for The Tuesday Platform. I see no reason why a haibun can’t rhyme, is there one?