I remember building forts along the beach,
You impressively dancing from rock to rock,
The sharp wind coming from the shore,
The waves splashing us, sprinkling us,
Our hair becoming thick with the salt,
Licking my lips and tasting the sea,
Looking at you, laughing at me.
The sky was gray with March’s coldness.
It was always March when we came to see you.
Taking the ferry made me feel like I was Christopher Columbus.
Expertly exploring on a voyage to a new world.
I remember always
All over the upper deck, I felt so protected by that thick air.
I can still feel it sometimes caressing my face,
Filling my pink fleece coat with dank, moist, salt,
I loved it.
It smelled like you.
In the parking lot waiting for us,
Waving a watercolor covered hand.
I liked your fancy hats.
They were velvet, floral, vintage, soft, covered in cat hair.
These memories are my favorite.
They are so real, so metallic, fresh, magical, young.
Three cats, two stained glass windows, one red hen house, one lost peacock,
The painting of the woman in the corner,
One small waist, two small dimples, her blue skin,
The blue shed, the blue sea, the blue vest, the blue peacock pooping on your car.
The round hammock nailed to the tree behind your hen house.
Wizzy would run free.
He’s sleeping on my couch right now.
I hope he remembers you too.
Max and I played pretend.
Full of my favorite things,
The smell of your oil paint,
The beautiful China doll,
The ladder to your bed in the loft.
Innocent and pure, your house, my Utopia.
Charlotte Middleton '14