and i haven't even had a glass of wine yet

Here's a glass of wine for the moon, rising over the John Muir Elementary school into the lavender evening sky. Here's a glass of wine for knitting in the round on rosewood kneedles, for the acting greatness that is Al Pacino, for the way the kid's playground at Golden Gate park looked like a fairytale castle-scape:rough-hewn grey-pink stone building with rosettes and medieval windows surrounded by pastel web jungle gym and emerald green muddy lawn. In the distance trees, receding into darkness where clusters of figures in ground-sweeping coats gather, ring bells, make mysterious deals, smoke and push around 24 packs of Budweiser in baby strollers. Here's a glass of wine for the lover that I get to share this world with, for the smell of eucalyptus and wet mud in the panhandle, for the gold-encrusted spire of city hall that is now lit with floodlights, to the yelling people in the street below, to making puppet-show animation until 4 in the morning.

This is the color of the sky RIGHT NOW.