Beach Memories

 

So fragile

Yet so strong

The shell can’t take a hit

But can stand up

To the ocean currents

Takes me back

I’m thirteen again

I’m seeing the ocean

For the first time

Daytona Beach, Florida

Warm sand

Feels good beneath my feet

Even the wet sand

Squishing between my toes

I wade in the ocean

Pick up shells

Fill a two-liter bottle

With sand and ocean water

At days end

I’ve got sand

In places I didn’t know I had

The crevices of newly formed breasts

And up my crack

No one had ever told me that

The beach has drawbacks

 

I’m nineteen

I’m in Ireland

On Waterford Beach

Christmas day

Climbing a dune

Sliding down

Sand filling my tennis shoes

Picking up shells with my mother

 

Twenty-five again

I hold the tiny conch shell

Up to my ear

Even this small

I can hear the waves

There’s the shell in my palm

So small and insignificant

Chipped and broken, but still beautiful

Fully unique, fully me