Once upon a time, I wore a flowing singlet dress,
My toes running through the sand
My only marker left
The sand would soon forget me,
one slight burst of breath,
From mother nature and the memory of my presence would be erased.
And so it was,
The beach no longer remembers me,
As I remember it
It has power.
Now, I sit at a hardwood desk,
Tie constricted to my throat,
My clothing heavy and
The sound of manufactured air
Running a track in my mind,
Pushing through the memories my toes hold,
Of the tiny grains of sand,
Meaningless grains that followed me home
And left their memories in the bottom of my bag.
I sit at a hardwood desk
The sky blue outside,
And the beach, the beach whispering my name
It's scent too far away to reach my senses
But it's feeling, constant,
It sits at the bottom of my beach bag,
Waiting to be reunited with its old friends.
Next summer. Next summer.