Therese Gramercy . . . the girl named Trees

Garden at Noe's Nest


Sipping my morning camellia tea
while the garden shadows flicker about me,
reflecting on my deep San Francisco roots,
and pondering why love remains so aloof.

This day I shall walk to the Dolores school
to saunter in the vapor trails of my mother's young shoes,
and I shall trace the ghost of the Dolores Creek
that vanished with its lagoon into mystery.

Soul repaired by the loving airs that silent tears share,
I shall leave all of my worries and my sorrows there.