Yes I did buy a poem from that wonderful typewriting street poet.
And I paid her $5 instead of $1 because that seemed too tiny an amount.
She asked me what I would like her to write about
I said oak trees
This is what she crafted:
Oaks are only silent at night
their leaves and branches flutter
with excitement during the day,
tiny commotions of claws and beaks,
but the owl is asleep when the tree sits awake,
the owl keeps watch over the night,
His only noise breaks silent,
louder than wind and clearer than
crisply twirling leaves.
The owl owns the night from his
throne the oak tree.
-Pam, Market Street, San Francisco 11/24/2010