Paddling in the Bay

One misstep and under water I go. Sea lions barking in the distance call out to me. The warm sun rests on my shoulders and a purring motorboat sends over a rolling set of speed bumps that seesaw my board and tighten my calves. Paddle’s firmly in my grip. I bend into the letter P and float free in the bay’s womb. I’m surrounded by rapt sailors in toy sailboats forming figure eights in the wind and kayakers daydreaming along the bay’s broad banks.