Jan Petersen

Closing Time

On the headlands above Fort Cronkite the sun warms my face, raptors circle above; down on Rodeo Beach black-bodied seals and surfers ride the waves. White pelicans fly in formation - a small boy, bright as a peacock, scrambling from bunker to bunker stops and aims his imaginary gun.

Yesterday I went back to Tiburon; our house is painted blue with yellow trim. Octoberfest was in full swing - you would have loved the band playing oom-pah-pah and mariachi. I ate a burrito down by the water looked across to Sausalito where we met in the bar with no name. Tomorrow there's a bluegrass festival in the park - you would have loved that too. I wont' go.

Fog rolls across the bay, shrouding the bridge. Before 9/11 you could stand right under it, I tell the woman pointing her camera in that direction.

© Jan Petersen

Published in West Coast, North Hill (Flax Books)