the mix of pebbles
dirt and sand
crunches beneath my feet,
from somewhere beyond
the thin, aged pines
a gull cries
as it soars
out over the bay,
the air
of evening’s gloaming
is calm and cool
upon my skin
the scent of dewey green
consumes me
and I am transported
to the coastal summer days
of my youth;
this walk
down the lane
of memory
is perfect
Tag: memory
Here
a whisper of salt
rides the coattails
of the wind
up
from the pristine blue;
it is the scent of memories,
too many to count
or relive in this moment,
so I sit
on a hard bench
in the welcome warmth
of the sun's afternoon glow,
staring out at the water,
gazing back through time,
wondering where it has gone,
happy I'm here now