Best Day Ever
By the Cherry Blossom Sushi Bar,
the sky is full of Japanese kites
fluttering like koi
in the ocean-scented San Francisco wind.
A girl runs down the street
laughing with her father. She’s eating
a mango ice cream cone
and wearing a purple sequin sweatshirt
with a message: Best Day Ever!
I think of my father
in a parallel, interpenetrating world.
He loved sashimi
and would have wanted to come with me
today, for lunch and conversation.
I would tell him about playing Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony
on the same stand as my husband.
We’d talk about my new novel, narrated by a mermaid,
and finally weeks of open time
to call it into being.
Best Day Ever!
Six years ago in the morning,
my father left this world.
Over time, his memory
became a source of strength to me,
and joy. I would have wanted him
to give me away at our wedding,
but maybe he was doing that
in a parallel, interpenetrating world.
Best Day Ever!
I am left only with today,
another morning of light, a gift
to be in this world, drinking green tea,
watching the street parade
through floor to ceiling windows,
then indulging my mile a day walking habit
at the beach, before the wind
picks up from the Pacific.
Tonight, a Solstice Dance. I will wear
velvet, sparkles and lace
when StringFire plays a waltz
called “Solstice Wedding.”
City of the Past, City of the Future.
Sunlight filled with joy.
A homeless man by the Symphony
asks if I have brought him a tangerine today.
Yes, three of them, some toothpaste, a fig bar
and a new pair of socks.
I wonder if my father sees me today
or if he is far away.
I wonder what he has learned
in the City of Immortality
and how it will feel to meet him there one day.
Back on Planet Earth,
I walk to the Post Office,
the thrift store, the bagel shop,
the fruit and vegetable stand.
And from that other world
I hear him whisper,
You were born to live in the City of Joy.
Every day, choose to walk there.
Back at home, rainbow over the ocean,
unexpected light.
Best Day Ever!
Joy, like a Purple Balloon
For Erik
That morning, a man and his young daughter
were crossing Geary Boulevard
as we waited for the light.
They were both wearing purple
and she was holding three helium balloons
on long strings. Her tiny hands
floating with joy,
the balloons, a kaleidoscope of color.
The two of them
carrying all of the joy
of the human race.
I thought at that moment
if someone from another galaxy
wanted to visit life on this planet,
I would want it to be
right here and right now.
You told me you hoped
that tiny child
would hold tightly to the strings.
And at that moment, I thought
what a miracle, you and I,
among all the humans
on this flying jewel of a planet,
were lucky enough to find each other.
A miracle, a gift –
your heart filling with music,
my heart full with joy.
At our wedding, all around us
friends, family and joy
like a huge bouquet of purple balloons
floating, flapping, flying
in a wild wind.
Three Haikus
Sliver moon over the ocean
waves curl in the dark
under northern lights
feral cat in the yard
muscular, fierce fur ball
stalking invisible mouse
Dawn sky above the waves
seagulls circle in early morning light
gratitude gratitude gratitude
Diane Frank is author of eight books of poems, three novels, and a photo memoir of her 400 mile trek in the Nepal Himalayas. While LIstening to the Enigma Variations: New and Selected Poems (Glass Lyre Press) is Winner of the 2022 Next Generation Indie Book Award for Poetry. She is also editor of three bestselling anthologies, including: Fog and Light: San Francisco through the Eyes of the Poets Who Live Here and Pandemic Puzzle Poems. She lives in San Francisco, where she dances, plays cello in the Golden Gate Symphony, and creates her life as an art form.
By the Cherry Blossom Sushi Bar,
the sky is full of Japanese kites
fluttering like koi
in the ocean-scented San Francisco wind.
A girl runs down the street
laughing with her father. She’s eating
a mango ice cream cone
and wearing a purple sequin sweatshirt
with a message: Best Day Ever!
I think of my father
in a parallel, interpenetrating world.
He loved sashimi
and would have wanted to come with me
today, for lunch and conversation.
I would tell him about playing Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony
on the same stand as my husband.
We’d talk about my new novel, narrated by a mermaid,
and finally weeks of open time
to call it into being.
Best Day Ever!
Six years ago in the morning,
my father left this world.
Over time, his memory
became a source of strength to me,
and joy. I would have wanted him
to give me away at our wedding,
but maybe he was doing that
in a parallel, interpenetrating world.
Best Day Ever!
I am left only with today,
another morning of light, a gift
to be in this world, drinking green tea,
watching the street parade
through floor to ceiling windows,
then indulging my mile a day walking habit
at the beach, before the wind
picks up from the Pacific.
Tonight, a Solstice Dance. I will wear
velvet, sparkles and lace
when StringFire plays a waltz
called “Solstice Wedding.”
City of the Past, City of the Future.
Sunlight filled with joy.
A homeless man by the Symphony
asks if I have brought him a tangerine today.
Yes, three of them, some toothpaste, a fig bar
and a new pair of socks.
I wonder if my father sees me today
or if he is far away.
I wonder what he has learned
in the City of Immortality
and how it will feel to meet him there one day.
Back on Planet Earth,
I walk to the Post Office,
the thrift store, the bagel shop,
the fruit and vegetable stand.
And from that other world
I hear him whisper,
You were born to live in the City of Joy.
Every day, choose to walk there.
Back at home, rainbow over the ocean,
unexpected light.
Best Day Ever!
Joy, like a Purple Balloon
For Erik
That morning, a man and his young daughter
were crossing Geary Boulevard
as we waited for the light.
They were both wearing purple
and she was holding three helium balloons
on long strings. Her tiny hands
floating with joy,
the balloons, a kaleidoscope of color.
The two of them
carrying all of the joy
of the human race.
I thought at that moment
if someone from another galaxy
wanted to visit life on this planet,
I would want it to be
right here and right now.
You told me you hoped
that tiny child
would hold tightly to the strings.
And at that moment, I thought
what a miracle, you and I,
among all the humans
on this flying jewel of a planet,
were lucky enough to find each other.
A miracle, a gift –
your heart filling with music,
my heart full with joy.
At our wedding, all around us
friends, family and joy
like a huge bouquet of purple balloons
floating, flapping, flying
in a wild wind.
Three Haikus
Sliver moon over the ocean
waves curl in the dark
under northern lights
feral cat in the yard
muscular, fierce fur ball
stalking invisible mouse
Dawn sky above the waves
seagulls circle in early morning light
gratitude gratitude gratitude
Diane Frank is author of eight books of poems, three novels, and a photo memoir of her 400 mile trek in the Nepal Himalayas. While LIstening to the Enigma Variations: New and Selected Poems (Glass Lyre Press) is Winner of the 2022 Next Generation Indie Book Award for Poetry. She is also editor of three bestselling anthologies, including: Fog and Light: San Francisco through the Eyes of the Poets Who Live Here and Pandemic Puzzle Poems. She lives in San Francisco, where she dances, plays cello in the Golden Gate Symphony, and creates her life as an art form.