The beach was inviting, A balm to my stressed soul. The salty ocean air was impish today, It hugged me and caressed my dishevelled hair, It even tried to lift my skirt above my knees but I held onto it tightly. The young white waves came running towards me, Giggling and splashing sea water over my toes and above my ankles, One large swell rolled me over and shouldered me under, Drenched I played with the waves. Soon I swam over to the bobbing boats to rest, A seagull hovered over me before flying away. Before the tide could recede I swam back to the shore, I walked along the beach collecting shells which took my fancy , The warm sand was delighted to feel my bare feet. And as the sun went down the sky was splashed in peach and orange and purple colours, The sun's warmth still lingered on me, I decided to head home. 23/6/2020
Maybe I wrote too much about it and that’s why I can’t ever forget now. I looked back at old pictures yesterday and noticed that she squints her eyes in pictures the same way I do. Like we both want to shut out the world when we smile, close our eyes to seal in that happiness of a moment.
I believe that some of our parts were probably made of the same substance, or at least at the same time.
Sometimes I feel like a seagull in a shopping center parking lot – so far from the place I was made to inhabit. They gather in droves and shriek and it sounds so loud without the ocean waves to drown their voices. Maybe I’m just too noisy for West Virginia and one day I’ll be somewhere that makes sense – where I’m the right volume, like starlings in Europe, like kudzu in Japan.
If you ride the wind, Or at least motor yourself, On a schooner out to ten pound island, You may have the luxury of meeting Mooch. He is the seagull who likes Cheetos. Life for Mooch is simple, All he has to do is sit on the arm of Owen, The boy who pulls the sails Or Captain Harold, The man who built the boat, And eat enough Cheetos to stuff his throat. He never tells any of his friends, For fear of missing out on Cheetos. Oh, to be a seagull. Oh, to mooch off of others And still be loved.
Written about a trip in Gloucester harbor on a schooner.