the sun’s high again,
and I’m still sitting on that beach
where we met so many summer ago —
back when we were too young to know better
or reconcile that we’d be looking at the rest of our lives.
the beach house still stands,
its familiar blue door welcoming
that flood of memories weeping free —
and I remember you and your brother laughing
when I told you that here was forever caught in sandglass.
there’s a new family,
and a boy and a girl walk the beach
every single day right before sunset —
and I’m reminded of us, oh, back when we were
a glimpse of something eternal rather than breakable.
but the ocean’s the same —
that’ll probably never change,
no matter how the years pass us by —
and the call of the water still resonates for me
as I picture you waiting for me against the waves.
we were so young —
maybe too young, I think now,
to think we knew about life and love —
but there’s no way out from all those traps
of memories so searing I think I’ve been burned.
the sun sets again,
and there are that boy and girl —
just like us, oh, just like us so long ago —
passing along the shoreline at a quiet pace,
and I wish I could warn them to guard their hearts.
you’re not here, you’re not here —
I tell myself these words constantly —
but sometimes I think I see your silhouette
in the water, far off and away, like a ghost
left to haunt me every summer I come back here.
For more poetry, you may enjoy my poems linked in the list below: