Berkeley

. . . Dreamweaver, her name, a six-meter sloop,
a sailboat we lived on a week,
she was roomy and clean, a beautiful craft,
handsome, lovely and sleek.
we lived and we loved and breathed the sea air,
and toured San Francisco by day,
the rattling halyards sung us to sleep
and i dreamed with my lady so fair,
it was an experience i'll never forget
as we jogged through the City of Lights,
we couldn't believe the things that we saw
to us 'twas the City of Sights,
we sailed her out from her Berkeley slip
toward Alcatraz off in the west,
we caught an easterly breeze before noon
and she flew with a wild saucy zest,
wing and wing we sailed for the sea,
with never a thought or a fear,
the Golden Gate Bridge loomed o'er our heads
and made the dim sun disappear,
then we brought her about and fought our way back
close-hauled for the rest of the day,
tack after tack, in foul weather gear,
easting across the cold Bay,

two lovers snuggled warm in their berth
a fortune in Time was what it was worth. . .

California 1991