who I almost was

Date: 8/25/2021

Walk alone through a town by the beach, and see all the things that feel like home. There’s a shop selling sea shells and touristy knickknacks. Pick them up and turn them over, be careful not to break them. And across the way see a restaurant laid out on the sand. A seaside shack with the best clam chowder known to man. Not so enticing, I’m sure. But walk in and order a bowl, and find yourself remembering who you used to be. Along the beach discover tiny pebbles of sea glass. Green and blue and pink—how rare. A little boy will take them from your hand. That’s ok, let him have them. There’s plenty more to come. His dad will thank you with a tired smile. And as you stare out at the ocean, and the gloomy islands in the distance, reach out across time. Feel me staring back at you? You’re taller—no, lankier—than I am, and your hair is darker. And your stride is strong and your eyes are stormy. Still, you are familiar. Maybe you’re who I could have been. Or who I’m becoming.