Was it summer,
the last time I stood on the beach
and watched the waves roll in?
I remember the hot
coarse sand
under my bare feet
as I walked toward the water;
a fire
burned through my naked soles
and crackled up my legs,
but when was this memory created?
I remember the second
I stepped into the cold waves
that cooled the flames
that burned through my soles and up my legs,
but the season itself is a shadow
overlaid by patches of shore scenes;
overlaid by photos of family
and friends
at various resorts
in different seasons.
I remember the songs
of the waves as they rolled in,
as they hit my body
and struck against my will to stand straight,
to walk
into life’s ocean.
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