Has the ocean changed or have I?
As a girl riding alone
Excited in the back seat
Of my father’s white Cutlass sedan–
The confused shuffling of
Voices on the radio,
Each on different stations,
Mixed in with staticy music
As we traveled down shore
I never had to ask
Are we almost near the beach yet.
Before I could see the Atlantic
I could always smell
The salty green dampness in the air
Full of adventure, chlorophyll, and starfish.
Though we were still a few miles away,
I already was imaging taking off my sandals
To trek through the unstable sand
Sinking with each step,
The grit biting the soles of my feet
Just below the threshold of pain.
I was already looking past the throng of
People, chairs, blankets, and umbrellas
To the expanse of water,
Gauging the rise and fall of waves,
Anticipating the briny liquid
Catching my open mouth by surprise.
Nowadays, I’ve noticed that the smell of beach
Is not as strong as it used to be;
It’s denatured, sanitized, and bland.
There are fewer pretty rocks and shells
To cram into my beach bag.
Only the sound of the surge
Is larger and more insistent than ever,
Or is it just me?
NaPoWriMo Day 12. The NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem that incorporates all five senses.
Please visit this list of my poet friends who are also doing the poem-a-day challenge. They are worth the look. I’m inspired by them daily Contact me if you want to be added to the list.
© Sweepy Jean and Sweepy Jean Explores the (Webby) World, 2012.