Once upon a time, I wore a flowing singlet dress,

My toes running through the sand

Leaving lines,

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.

But now,

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.