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.