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Footsteps imprint
sink into the sand
our footsteps are not alone today
printed with different patterns
cobwebbed peanut butter bottom Vans

concrete cranes invade
wires bombard trees
I think about how
your arms mold
but my foot imprint
remains the same

High tides
overflow
footprints
drain away
as if we were never here

I wish you were as consistent
as these tides
push up and push down this brown
paradise
low tide, high tide, tides always come
though
you are deep undertows
drop into the ocean and overflow

– Marcella Ortiz

From “City of Stairways: A Poet’s Field Guide to San Francisco”

Poem of the Month: March 2011