Theme Thursday on a Friday

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stop right now.
think about this.
stepping onto hot sand, feel it burning your tender feet
you do that funny run across the stand, high stepping it to the water.

stop right now.
think about this.
watery sand, cold sea water crashing over your pink feet.
looking down at your heels as they sink and disappear.

stop right now.
think about this.
hard, cold, cement-like sand, between the tide and the hot sand.
the ridge of mucky-muck that’s formed with broken sand dollars and purplish shells.

remember this.
the feeling after a day the beach.
sand between your toes as you try to put on your shoes after a long day playing in the sand.
outdoor beach showers that never get rid of all of the sand.
making haphazard castles with old coffee cans and moats of salt water.
the cold days where your lips are chapped and your face is stung but you grin incessantly.
or that day you went out into the fierce wind and leaned sideways into it.
and those rainy days, running and laughing with your friend from the little beach cottage to the place where they sold the saltwater taffy
early morning cinnamon rolls and coffee
getting out of your tent, wrapping a blanket around you and stumbling down to the shoreline, even though you were just there in the middle of the night, watching the phosphorescence.
napping on the short sands while she played with the others.
scampering around as a teenager, meeting cute canadians and drinking whiskey cokes in front of a bonfire.
letting your big sister bury you in the sand, just your head peeping out as you giggled hysterically.
riding the recumbent bicycles in junior high with the big brother you idolized before he left for basic.
looking out the house window at the storm and knowing something is not right with how much she drinks.
going to the sea gypsy in lincoln city, counting the agates and watching them make cheese.
climbing on all fours up the vertical dunes at pacific city, triumphant and laughing before you left the state.
singing how much is that doggy in the window but always silent as you caught that first glimpse of blue, before shrieking with delight.
chocolate dipped cones at dairy queen on the way back from the beach.
emptying sand from your keds when you got home,
wishing you were still there.
red shoulders and chest from where the sunscreen always missed.  extra freckles marking the spot.
watching him give her a ring in that quiet cove away from the rest of the world, and then taking their photo, wondering why the one i was with at the time never understood why i thought that was the most beautiful moment id ever seen.
watching your dog meet a horse on the beach for the first time and trying to play with what she thought was a giant dog
butterfly preserves and coming out onto cliffs in the sunshiny world down south.
narrow stripes of sand down jamaican shores
layers of bodies down waikiki beach
roast pig on coronado island
camarones al ajillo in barra de potosi.
my dog learning to paddle.
imagining english shores and if that will give me the same sense of wonder and peace
as every other seaside has.

it feels like yesterday, the memories of the blue
it’s a lover i’ve craved
when i see it, i breathe again.
i am home.
i am in denial as to how much i need my ocean.


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