Tentacles of fog drift up river
navigating around redwood crowns
obscuring stars suspended in cobalt

In cadenced harmony
tires roll over damp pavement
crooning the lullaby of Main Street
as a lingering street vendor nods an
evening greeting to passersby

Faintly visible under tangerine streetlights
the vendor's hand-painted sign
Crystals Gems Minerals Rocks Fossils
still hangs on the side of his van
while he packs his hallowed wares

Hey, Rock Man, still open for business?
I'm in need of a special stone tonight.

The Rock Man reaches for rose quartz
and listens to one more story while

tangerine mist blankets Main Street