I wrote this poem on September 29, 2021:
In my memory lives a summer where we waded from a rocky shore to the boat wreck.
Tackle box with glittery bait like a chest of booty.
Climbing up the cliffside by my finger tips as they grey smooth rocks jutted out and lead me to a moss topped sanctuary.
Where the trucks drove on dirt paths, and kids sat on the side of the box as the sun beat down.
You've never seen so many sea creatures.
Star fish of all sizes.
And the mint growing near the driftwood bleached by the sun. So sweet.
Who has walked this expansive beach?
Skittling crabs running along the wet sand.
Urchin shells.
Kelp popping under my feet.
And the joy when I find sand dollars.
The currency of the current.
-Amanda
