Smidgens
The bay is a memory
Whose time is always now
Glowing greenish blue
Before rocks and sand
Slow in its inland intrusion
Into small beach towns
Where I fish the unknown
Green line on a stick
Taste familiar cotton candy
Watch taffy pulled
Eat bread shaped
Like a rock.
I refuse to let the bay go
Even as I shelter
Myself from storms the bay brings
To my doorstep, mat, and mailbox.
I hear it pelting my shingles
Tapping at my dirty windows.
I don’t invite it in
Deciding to meet the wind
On its own terms; outside
Where it washes my old desires
Causing a yearn
From the skin to the inside
Filling me full of myths
The disbelief that shapes me
Stemming from a past
Lingering in the present
A linear fishing line
Dangling into the dark of the bay
And like you all
I decorate inside my basement
With old trophies, shoes,
Broken odds and ends,
Defunct tools of communication
My only glimpse of the beach town
Is through a window, distorted
A mirror of handed-down stories
That I scribble into sense, inside
The cracks of concrete walls
Trapped and freed
By the bay’s storm, I eat
The rest of the bread
Cotton candy and taffy.
Attempting to turn my water
Into a sweet reddish cherry drink
Held together by impenetrable
Veins, vessels, and arteries adhered
To bones the shape of rocks
Other towns dot the shoreline
With bays attached
I loved “I don’t invite it in / Deciding to meet the wind / On its own terms”. Beautiful.
LikeLike
Wonderful detail. Made me feel like I was there, which poems don’t often do. I love the shingles and the rain. Thanks for sharing!
LikeLike
I miss the coast so much and this made the longing even stronger. Gorgeous.
LikeLike
Beautiful story. One thing I find particularly great is your use of all senses, really draws me deeply in to the poem. Thank you very much 🙂
LikeLike
I’ve never actually been to the bay, but after reading this, I feel like I can picture it perfectly
LikeLiked by 1 person
Words are better at painting other people’s memories than any photograph could ever convey.
LikeLike
Wow. Feel like I’m there!
LikeLike
Gorgeous interpretation of one’s relationship to their surroundings. We seldom stop to appreciate something so consequential as a body of water and its effects on our lives. Thanks for making a Floridian stop and think about his Peninsular life!
LikeLike
Elegantly expressed. I too lived by a beach and this revived memories. Your power of atmospheric expression evokes enduring images.
LikeLike
Oh, that is even more enticing!
LikeLike
Your images evoke my beach memories – some of the best of childhood. I’ve never stopped going there. Beautifully written,
LikeLike
so evocative. your mind plays with words, drops them on the page and leaves the readers caught, spellbound. fabulous writing! cheers, Debi
LikeLike
You do, you just don’t know it
LikeLike
So Beautiful ! I could actually picture all of the things in my head. Makes me want to live there!
LikeLike
“The bay is a memory whose time is always now.” What a beautiful first line. I love it all.
LikeLike
What a poetic description of nostalgic memories forever alive in the recess of our minds! I enjoyed the read. 🙂
His love in my heart for all! thia/Basilia
LikeLike
I love how atmospheric your writing is.
LikeLiked by 1 person
beautifully expressed. ..puts into words what I see and feel in my memory
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks
LikeLike
the curves at the end of this poem are delicious
LikeLiked by 4 people
Reminds of my childhood down the shore.
LikeLike