To Begin Again

I’ve walked outside to the open air.
There are people on holiday all around.
From the porch of the edifice, you step down into the flooded lawn.
This is normal.
Water buffers your line of sight to the sand below.
You can feel the grains between the slight webbing of your toes.
The water will be over your head before you get to the pool that used to be full of chemicalized fresh water.
Painted railings stick out close by.
Steps seek fresh depths and intuition matches shapes of bodies sitting in pool chairs with memories that match that shape within sight.
Pictures of smiles and particular body language confirm the person I intended to identify.


“Hey, dad,” I muster.
He sits beside others in a row of lounge chairs.
When he turns his torso, water rushes in to fill the space.
Our Eyes Meet.


“I’m going to meet other friends before midnight.”


He stares at me.


“Dad, I’m going now.”
When I turn to leave, water resists my movement.


“Okay.” His voice reaches the back of my head.


Water slightly trickles around my ankles when I emerge back onto the porch and head inside the door of the hotel that had a strange vibe of a train depot.
Personalities all gathered to traverse into another trip around the Sun.