Heather Saunders Estes

I Am a Country Girl, But:

June, 2023 Featured Poem

There has been so much negative press recently about San Francisco. I can not help but think it is written with a touch of gloating. Even my mother, who lived in New England and thought snow and ice was good for her, would say it was “too beautiful here.” Well, we like San Francisco. Here is just a bit of why.

I Am a Country Girl, But

How can I not forgive cities
when the ambulance comes in 4 minutes
or a spiced pumpkin dish with sumac
cooked for me only a mile away
arrives at the door, hot.

How can I not forgive cities
when they offer finding your own tribe—
people with pagan tattoos, love of skateboards,
birdwatching, role playing with swords in the park.
French movies, activist politics, Beethoven,
taiko drumming and regency dancing, Krav Maga,
poetry readings, or grousing-with-jokes
on My Neighborhood app.

How can I not forgive cities
when they host coyote dens, genius raccoons,
and enough escaped red-headed conures
for breeding, squawking tumults?

How can I not forgive cities,
at least this one,
when dark coffee is roasted on site,
college classes are free, health care for all,
and the Golden Gate Bridge is heroic.
The fog, the sky, ocean and traffic
is ever changing and never changing.

How can I not forgive cities,
at least this one,
when we are trying hard to be better,
willing to experiment and fail,
and enfold unwanted people
in our large, imperfect embrace.