A Day in Monterey Bay
Maybe it was in the way the fog rolled in
Over ocean waves and jagged rocks.
The way the greens and blues
Mixed perfectly to form a
Sputtering, crashing,
Spraying,
Yet oddly peaceful body
Of water.
Could it have been the way that the
Sand clawed at your feet
Making them red, raw, cold,
Yet fresh and clean?
Or the way that the ocean air danced
Across your face
And through
Your messy, crumpled
Hair.
Was it because we sat
Wearing thick warm hoodies
On a cold rock
Just a few feet away
From lounging sea lions?
Or maybe it was
The distant voices
Of friends that we
Had grown so close too.
Perhaps it’s because
We knew
That the sun was perfectly
Fine with being hidden
Behind a thick bank
Of fog.
And the fog
Was fine with battling the
Harsh rays of sun.
Or maybe it was because
Your eyes looked at
The ocean and seemed
To say “Home”.
Or it is because your eyes looked
At me, and said the same thing.
Home.
I know now it’s because
The memory
Is even stronger than
The moment
That leaves behind an
Awe-inspiring feeling.
And in the crashing of
Ocean waves
And the glimpse in you
Warm brown eyes,
I hear the words
“Awesome, Awesome”.