Early, a witching hour.
The bridge looms out of the sea mist,
Throwing its shadow into the bay below.
Beyond, out to sea, iridescent water scintillates…
Passing cars string the span like fairy lights.
Decking a Christmas Tree.
Golden Gate, Early
12 Thursday Jun 2014
Posted in poetry
Caro Field Author 
San Francisco, my home town. I have crossed that bridge many a cold morning when the fog was so heavy that it was hard to see the car in front of you, only to return at night when the mist was just as heavy…..
There is something about sea mist and this photo is especially atmospheric William
Chef William gave a similar response… The Golden Gate and the Mackinac bridge always remind me how much “fun” it is to travel in the early morn with their fog laden pathways.
It is Roy…stunning
Great poem. Amazing bridge with an interesting history….
Thanks Alessa
I would do with a trip to SF right now. Enough of the British weather!
A great place. An iconic bridge