Happy Birthday Abe, Dylan and the rest of you : )
I smell the sweet wind over the dunes
in a warm Maine summer morn.
Papa said it’s fine to dive into the Sea
between breaking waves and sky.
I took his advice.
I surface out of breath, with a smile.
Dusk faded into flickering flashing lights.
Chocolate milk and sparkling stars
captured in growing eyes.
Mama said, “Let them go,
There is no room in the car.”
We left them on the shore of the Sea
closing our eyes
as they were saved in memory;
with sparks of lightening in echoes of light.
It was time to go home.
But, she added “not until dawn”.
January 6, 2020 at 5:29 pm
I’m intrigued too of what was left behind – but love your story nevertheless!
January 6, 2020 at 12:08 pm
I love the sensitivity in this. Lovely poem and a lovely memory.
January 5, 2020 at 10:18 pm
This poem took me to the shores of Maine, and summer. Love the fireflies, and that they were set free again to flicker on. Today I walked my wild western shore. It was windy and sunny and the waves were big. Very beautiful.
January 5, 2020 at 7:40 pm
What a gorgeous memory! And what great parents, obviously.
January 5, 2020 at 3:47 pm
Clams? Starfish? What was left on the shore? I’m intrigued.
January 5, 2020 at 1:35 pm
This is beautiful, rich with memories. I love the thought of letting go of stars because there is not room enough to hold them.
January 5, 2020 at 10:58 am
Memory is a great place where to keep things we wish to see again.
January 5, 2020 at 9:01 am
Heartwarming childhood tale…and I love that wise mama. She obviously knows the secrets of the stars!