Carmel

By Ava Moga, TIWP Student

I see the cypress trees.
I feel the salty air,
the chilling ocean,
the granular sand,
and the jagged rocks

Sweet, plump tomatoes
on tangy and dense bread
with potato chips
and chocolate chip cookies the size of my hand
that I’m only allowed to have one of.

The aroma of sunscreen settles
and I cradle into my warm towel.
We rinse off the sand from our feet
and load into the car.

A saccharine sunset following behind,
I have no critical thoughts.
I bear no hate toward myself.
I’m just a child again.

I yearn for that sentiment and affection,
that infatuation of fortune
that I can never have back.

I miss it.

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