110

we’ll recount summer stories
of warm nights and warmer memories
kind people we met
and old tales we’ve left behind

we’ll find refuge in flannel
cotton wool blends into our daily attire
we’ll forget the way the beach breeze
swept through us like tides

I’m sitting on the shoreline
and I’m imagining all I promised to the universe
of all the good things I swore I’d accomplish
and all I haven’t planned quite yet

I’m awash with thinking I’m
the only person who could feel
so old and so young
and so eager to grow
for the rest of my life.

4 thoughts on “110

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