I met her last night
I sat across from her
In a commuter crowded alcove
At the Holiday Inn bar

I watched her grey eyes
As she cradled
A glass of Chardonnay
With the exquisite grace
Of a premiere danseuse
Charting her limits

I see them together
As they launch a kayak
Provision a raft for the American River
I watch them glide
In a perfect arc at Sun Valley
Down a sea of diamond snow

I see them scale
The north face of Half Dome
I watch them plant their tent
On the floor of Yosemite Valley
Beneath a redwood
In Kings Canyon

I see them brace their bodies
Against a noon wind on the Bay
As they unfurl a foresail
Trim the mizzen
Tune some rigging
On a salt sprayed deck

I watch them hike
The switchback trail in Big Sur
I watch them pause
As the child rescues a fallen leaf
Pull taut the day pack straps
Then round the definitive loop

I met her last night
I sat across from her
During an academic discussion
Of chapter deadlines
Her body was an album
A telescope of possibility
Last night I met a set of grey eyes
The girl my son didn’t marry.