Isla San Esteban

Looking back on two weeks filled with gray whales, and sunset colors that rippled and danced,
I can’t believe my clothes are so much tighter, hey, this salt air shrunk my pants!

Recall a multiplicity of fin whales, iguanas basking in bushes down low,
Remember the colors of the rainbow, that rolled out of a misty whale blow.

Will we become desperate to download? Will we seek macros at home of bobitos?
Hum, did we get those funny little beach roaches, out from between all of our toes?

Will whales dance in our dreams or start breaching, will the north wind rock our beds?
Will pixels of leaping dolphins, dance and splash in our sleepy heads?

Might tall stately cactus with flowers, wave a sad blossomed arm farewell?
Could chollas start to jump in protest? Wait don’t go, there’re more stories to tell!

The flora is promising exuberance, the seeds are on their way soon.
The tides are bulging and shifting, with the pledge of a new shiny moon.

We filled CF cards with sperm whales, and leaping dolphins in the swells,
Oh please Captain, take us to Guaymas, and save us from ourselves.

We are packing not only suitcases, but memories, which over time, we will share,
The big question is when we get home, who will be cooking the bacon over there?

We all take home different highlights, some may be repeated over time,
Here’s a poetic gift from a dear woman, as Hella shares with us her latest rhyme.

The poet is back by popular request
To write an ode to that little pest
Oh, oh – here they come-they’re getting near
Some up the nose, some in the ear
Yes, Ralph, we know that they don’t bite
But still we swat them with all our might
They think that we’re guano and they attack like mosquito
Will we ever forget the aggressive bobitos?

- Hella Cheitlan