Santa Rosa

Can’t find a man
who will love me right
and there’s no train
to Santa Rosa.

The sun sets the same
with the same gold light
every night and
I pray we’re not over.

He will not leave
and I will not stay—
and the sunsets alone
are distracting.

But I chose a river
while he, on the rails,
in the spin of the landscape
forgot me.

* * * * *

Marcella Hammer is a writer and an entrepreneur. She lives in San Francisco and enjoys mountain biking, running and good German beer. Follow her on Twitter @marhammer. Her other contributions to Snake-Oil Cure can be found here.

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