The Changing Light
The changing light at San
Francisco
is none of your East Coast light
none of your
pearly light of Paris
The light of San Francisco
is a sea light
an island light
And the light of fog
blanketing the hills
drifting in at night
through the Golden
Gate
to lie on
the city at dawn
And then the halcyon late
mornings
after the
fog burns off
and the son paints white houses
with the sea of
light of Greece
with sharp clean shadows
making the town look like
it had
just been painted
But the wind comes up at four
o’clock
sweeping the hills
And then the veil of light of
early evening
And then another scrim
when the new night fog
floats in
And in that vale of light
the city drifts
anchorless upon the ocean
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Ferlinghetti, Lawrence. “The
Changing Light”. San Francisco Poems. San Francisco: City Lights
Foundation. 2001, pp. 76-77.
