Monday, April 17, 2017

Home

Winter clothes crowd my suit case,
I fully expected to walk along the beach
scarf wrapped
warming,
my boots sinking
deep into the sand,
but
instead,
I walked barefooted,
closing my eyes
pretending it was summer.

Whenever I visit home
I walk the beaches
where as a kid
I dug deep holes
until they pooled with water,
collected shells and sand dollars,
the expanse of ocean stretching to the
thin horizon line,
I imagined
floating out
to sea.


I am drawn to the sea.
Here I am home.

2 comments:

Mary Ann Reilly said...

I am drawn to the sea too. I feel I am in the presence of the holy each time I see the sea, smell it.
A lovely and evocative poem. Have you published your poetry?

travelinma said...

For someone who seems to breathe poetry the question of publishing is a huge compliment. Thank you. The short answer is no.