There’s a place
called Land’s End
where I stand to look,
clear my head.
I stand there,
again and again.
Never once, experiencing
the same setting twice.
This time
Waves kiss the rocks
again and again.
No two pecks alike.
some drawn out,
others putter off
Off into the harbor,
Fog and the mist set sail
blown forward by
The ocean’s deep breathe,
Out
and rest midway the Headlands.
I hear a crow, a caw
as native fowl sail and soar
before skimming their bellies
across the shore.
The sky falters,
into daylight no more.
The portrait I stand before,
Sets forevermore.
Because what is before
Is nevermore,
but tomorrow’s
almost ashore.
Francesca Bavaro
Francesca enjoys reading and writing poetry and short fiction. In her spare time she enjoys hiking, walking dogs, and frolicking in the grassy knolls of Golden Gate Park. She is terrified of birds.

Photography
Tyler Graves
Tyler Graves
As an active artist, Tyler Graves is mainly a musician, but he also partakes in photography, printmaking, and drawing. Tyler finds inspiration through his wife, cats, and the cityscape/landscape of the Bay Area.