Eastham

I thought of you in Eastham - 

I was sitting on the shore, 

digging my toes into the sand, 

like we did in summers before.  

back when I thought we were more permanent

but we were fleeting like the season. 

summer was never my favorite anyway. 

I always thought I loved you like september, 

warm but a little too late.  

but you are the ocean: 

always there,

but never reaching 

and always, always running.