a wooden cottage weathered pastel blue
on that rocky beach, speckled with sea glass.
light filters through the pines over my head,
a patchwork, shades of brown upon my skin.
a loon calls, no answer, only echoes
carried ‘cross the bay by an ocean breeze.
above high tide wild flowers spring to life
as the smells of moss and salt fill my lungs.
I close my eyes, remember summers past.
the crashing waves, the soundtrack of my youth.