Seattle, poem

I don't have much to share today, aside from a poem I wrote last year. Have you ever gone thrift-store shopping and there was a find that you fell in love with? While it may be an article of clothing that was made a while ago, it's new-to-you, and it sparks joy. 🎉

That's basically this poem, minus the musty smell. 🙃

Seattle

Forget by Shallou plays 
in the foreground as seagulls
scream in the distance; 
we whisper sweet nothings in 
a bougie BMW SUV in Seattle. 
I run my fingers through his hair in
harmony with the melody. 

We watch the sky through the sunroof, 
and talk about how tall these trees must 
be; I put my hair in a top knot to tame it 
from the whipping wind and admire 
the yellow blossoms I spot on the shoulder
of the road. 

Lethologica is an unknown or forgotten
word, living fully its meaning and purpose. 
But I’m writing these words to intentionally not
let this memory slip past my mind. 

I consciously un-wrinkle my brow in rebellion 
to the bright sun. Riding downhill, a freeing 
feeling with a bit of reckless joy. 
Momentum pushes us forward.

We find the beach is unfit for camping, so
we haul our belongings back, but before we do, 
we sit in the sand and watch the frothed milk
waves erode the black rocks; a moment of 
mindfulness under the full moon.