Friday, September 26, 2014

Sausalito--By Joann Grisetti--United States

Sausalito

Sausalito
sun shines on the old -
older inside

wooden Indian
hand raised in peace

glare off the bay
silver and blue mirage
gulls squawk

Alcatraz just sits there
keeping secrets

I squeeze your hand
still here
my insecurity

ice cream cones for all
I eat mine with a spoon

the children run ahead
trying to spy the ferry
on its return

Joann Grisetti has been writing for 45 years. She is a retired teacher from Florida. She receives encouragement from her daughter and has recently enrolled in a creative writing workshop. She is a member of Poetry Soup. You can read more of her poetry there.

5 comments:

  1. Interesting reading here, Joann. Love the creative quality blended in with the talent. Hope to read more of you here on this Whispers venue...... Sheri / www.poetryandbeyond

    ReplyDelete
  2. I can see that glare off the water, and hear the seagulls. Well painted!
    Maureen S

    ReplyDelete
  3. An interesting snap-shot: somewhere I recognize but have never been. Enjoyed the hint of Alcatraz. Thank you for your share. Ralph.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Love it. Peaceful and scenic. I like the message as well. Very nice job, Joann. Thank you for sharing and continued blessings!

    -MJ (www.tgbtgpublictions.com)

    ReplyDelete
  5. I really enjoyed the picturesque read. I have been at that very scene of Alcatraz, which brought foreboding images in my mind of incarcerated hardened criminals, when I was a girl.

    Thanks to your poem those memories are softened by other and more pleasant yet hidden images I had forgotten. It reminds me that stark reality, though sometimes very unpleasant, can be tolerated easier by focusing on the good that is always around us if we will look for it.

    Just as Alcatraz was in the distance from my vantage point, when I was a girl, that is where I need to put all negativity. Like a nickel held close to my eye blots out all else, so does focusing on the negative. Thank you for your well written poem.
    Charlene

    ReplyDelete