The date is mid September, and it’s white
outside, the normal hue for mornings here.
We’re chillier than average and we might
see rain, but fog’s our a.m. atmosphere
all summertime except when we pull heat
the Central Valley dried. Surveying out
the window, I’m impressed by white concrete
beneath a humid soffit made of cloud.

Our local tones of white are seldom clean.
We’ve tints of gray and brown that modify
the cast of buildings, bridges, airplanes, bay.
It’s only after take-off that the scene
is purified so bright it spanks my eye.
Above the clouds pure white is on display.