The coffee, the drive
The pit stops and
The last minute groceries
No, not until after
the unloading of essentials
and the dibbing of
the comfy bed
As always not until
the routine of adulting
the work, the bills, the parts
one is expected to play
The listener, the advisor
the mother, the lover
the sister, the friend
the orphan, the guilty
Not until the back screen door
cracks open for me to
sneak across the deck and
downstairs to the path
Winding between vacation cabins following
wooden stairs that could
use some upkeep but let's
put that off til next year
Five pound pup keeping up
my pace as we trot
to the end of the steps where
the wood meets the sand
And there it is surely the same as when I left it last
and the same as when we
were first introduced
Vast, endless and pounding
tore off the elastic from my pony so the breeze could tangle my hair with sweet saltwater scent
Wandering between the dry sand and the marshmallow tinged surf, my weary mind surrendered to the ocean roar
It had been too long since my
soul had been freed among
the sight, taste, sound and smell of the beach
Memories back to when a barefoot little girl ran freely
through the sand, straight to the Pacific, which always flowed cold
No adulting, no work, no fear
mind free, clear and present imprinting the ocean and a child's day of play in the sun
This is why the beach whispers
and pleads with me to come
enjoy the mist, salt, sand,
bare feet and broken shells
Embrace this moment, this day
this memory you are creating when its just you and the dog being absorbed by the ocean
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