'San Francisco, Golden Gate Bridge' by Thomas Kincaid‘Golden Gate’ by Daniel Rattelle The Society July 11, 2017 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 2 Comments A wind blew through the almond trees. The blossoms shook, the petals floated down Past where I sat on the cliffs above the sea. The waves reminded me a bit of the mounds Of snow I’d left behind, if only for a week. The locals though were wrapped in scarves and hats Their faces long and pale as poplar leaves. I watched the petals flood like cataracts Into the sea. And then there was the roar Below my feet or the wind that pushed Away the fog which, ’til then, obscured The bridge. That mass of steel, the twist Of blacktop and wire, not orange but grey: A spider-web across the gaping bay. Daniel Rattelle is a poet and arts journalist from Western Massachusetts where he lives with his wife and two kids. He is the author of the chapbook Let Us Sit Upon the Ground (2017). Related Post ‘Not Every Morning’ and Other Poetry by Anne Jan... Not Every Morning Not every morning is as this one, calm excitement for a future brought by change, so many years’ hard work to wrought fro... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail 2 Responses J. Simon Harris July 12, 2017 This is really a beautiful poem. I love the imagery, and the backstory that is only hinted at, and the rhyme and rhythm complement everything. At first, I was a little put off that some of the lines weren’t in pentameter, since the poem seems to be a sonnet and most of the lines are in iambic pentameter. But after reading through it again, I think the variations work really well. The ending is also nice– this man-made structure emerging like a specter from the natural scenery. Very well done. Reply David Hollywood July 12, 2017 A smashing poem. A surprising ending, almost like an emotional shock. Well done. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.