On Morro Bay’s Embarcadero, seals
and dogs bark at each other. Fishermen
unload and weigh their catch as gulls
converge on tossed salmon pieces.
Out on the wharf, I flirt with two youths
repairing a fifty-foot sailboat, planning
their trip to Mexico. When I admire
their progress, share my longing
to see Baja, they invite me to join them.
I head home on Highway One
to fix dinner for my husband, watch TV,
floss, brush, and go to bed.
I want adventure and I choose routine.
You never know about adventures—blue seas
day after day could bore me. Those cute guys
might want a cook or someone to scrub decks.
You never know about routines—at home,
after dinner I wash dishes—
floating on the water turns into a sailboat.
I nudge it toward shore, and I’m in the Baja.
From Marriage and Other Leaps of Faith, (Penciled In, 2015).
Used here with the author’s permission.