If,
just if,
one day early
on a southern California morning,
with the Pacific lolling lazily and lavender
in the soft low light and the rose
infused haze
rolling out
to sea
nice and easy,
our paths crossed. What if, while out walking
past the tide pools, you saw me there with my long wide skirt
hiked above my wet bare feet and brown hair blown across my face distracted
as I hunted for new discoveries. Would you know me or mistake me
for someone that I'm not? Would you look twice
wondering if
I'd be worth
breaking your stride.
If I looked up and caught your eye
would you glance away and walk on by
instead of settling up beside me to swap small talk in the sand
as we squinted in the sun shine and retreated
from the rising surf pushing us
against the rocks? I am
nothing and no one
as a woman
once long ago said, just
a Plain Jane shoving sand dollars and barnacles
into pockets at dawn having chosen not to linger alone in a cold bed
staring at last year's calendar still tacked to the wall.
Would you run screaming,
hands held
to the skies,
if I suggested meekly
that we meet again for pie and tea
at the diner up the street another day at another time for no reason
aside from the pleasure of your company?
Would you call me if I asked you to or
opt to forget me, dissuaded
from pursuing
the weathered woman
whose path you crossed one day
down on Moonlight Beach who unconsciously
spread mud across her face as she laughed spontaneously
at something you said? Worrying about tomorrow
based on the outcome of yesterday
we may be blinded to
beauty today.
If,
just if,
one day early
on a southern California morning,
with the Pacific lolling lazily and lavender
in the soft low light and the rose
infused haze
rolling out
to sea
nice and easy,
our paths crossed. What if, while out walking
past the tide pools, you saw me there with my long wide skirt
hiked above my wet bare feet and brown hair blown across my face distracted
as I hunted for new discoveries. Would you know me or mistake me
for someone that I'm not? Would you look twice
wondering if
I'd be worth
breaking your stride.
If I looked up and caught your eye
would you glance away and walk on by
instead of settling up beside me to swap small talk in the sand
as we squinted in the sun shine and retreated
from the rising surf pushing us
against the rocks? I am
nothing and no one
as a woman
once long ago said, just
a Plain Jane shoving sand dollars and barnacles
into pockets at dawn having chosen not to linger alone in a cold bed
staring at last year's calendar still tacked to the wall.
Would you run screaming,
hands held
to the skies,
if I suggested meekly
that we meet again for pie and tea
at the diner up the street another day at another time for no reason
aside from the pleasure of your company?
Would you call me if I asked you to or
opt to forget me, dissuaded
from pursuing
the weathered woman
whose path you crossed one day
down on Moonlight Beach who unconsciously
spread mud across her face as she laughed spontaneously
at something you said? Worrying about tomorrow
based on the outcome of yesterday
we may be blinded to
beauty today.