by Jentsie Petersen
Returning to a memory of a memory.
Feet sinking into sand I hadn’t felt in years as my cousin and sister ran
laughing with the waves.
I stood on the edge. The foamy tide rolled up to my ankles:
an old lover reaching for a hand to hold.
The sand flows out from under my feet with the tide:
hand reluctantly retreating, yearning, yet knowing to move on.
My eyes squint as my head tilts back,
waiting for the tears to fall as an
echo of sunlight and innocence come with the next
wave of the tides.
I hear my family and it pulls me back.
Two feet taller, 100 pounds heavier, lacking the power to
cry.
The sun slowly sets over a vast blue ocean.
Gusts of wind threaten my stance on my cradle,
but I cannot be moved.