One Perfect Hour

After the morning's work

and before taking my son to a doctor's appointment

was one perfect hour

in which I rushed to the beach

hurry, hurry

parked on Thalia Street

and ran across Pacific Coast Highway

water-logged longboard under my arm.

I pulled on my wetsuit

quick, quick

pausing to take note

of a new hole under the left arm, darnit

and paddled out.

The water was still January-chilly

but the warm sun made up for it

and I caught wave after glassy little wave

and watched the pelicans dive

and said

thank you, thank you

when I saw

a pod of dolphins swim by.