san francisco smiles
she was hanging from the car
at the powell and market terminal
making her way to california street
before returning to russian hill
i saw her coat,
before i saw her body.
i admired her hat
before her eyes.
the car, like most, was full
but her decision to hang from the platform
showed her tourist status
she waved at chinese residents walking
their shuffle step from chinatown
and twisted her body into a pretzel shape
to measure the gap between seasoned drivers
and the open-air bus
her avocado green coat walked away
at the end of the powell/mason line;
her burgundy hat tilted to one side
and i could only guess the color of her eyes.
i only knew that for one day in san francisco