Writing a Dream

Along the Shore


I stopped at the ocean front the other day
and watched people walk up and down the shore
with their children in tow,
as if the ocean were looking for tourists that day.

The salty sea spray jumped up from rocks
and spattered a few people with its saline residue
as they moved alone
and looked into the water for fish.

I sat in my car and looked out to see this as I knew
I wasn’t nearly in the mood to deal with the humidity
drifting in from the water, but I still opened my windows
and took in the scent of the sea and a gust of wind blew my hair back.

I watched the waves as they beat on the shoreline
and ate away at the rocks lining the seawall.
A few whisks of sand made their way into the eyes
of a child and they yelled out to their father to help them cover their face.

It’d been a long time since I’d last done this-
I said to myself and I did indeed miss it,
but I knew that my heart was no longer there with me on that shore,
for I knew it had moved on to other ventures,

but failed to tell me where to find it.

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