Spilled Tea

Do Me A Favor

Remembering
the ocean as blue
is instinct for many,
especially me.
Don't you remember
all the poems?
The better of the batch
comes out of oceans.
Isn't it funny how expectant
we are for that blue color,
and come to find out
that this beach
I am at right now
is more green
than anything?
Isn't it confusing
how you are always
in the back of my head,
even when this specific water
doesn't match your eyes
like that beach did
in New Jersey during
that summer two years back?
Isn't it crazy
how you still make poetry
flow out of my mind?
You make beautiful things
grow out of the dust.
Your boy knows that,
I see it in his eyes.
He is perfect,
I think he is the one.
I am happy to know
that you will now
look at him with
the same eyes as he has
always looked at you.
Will you do me one more favor?
There's a town with
a pretty little boardwalk
in the state I mentioned earlier.
It's name is Ocean City.
Have that man of yours
accompany you on a trip
there one day in the future.
Get there early enough
to see the water in the daylight,
to see the right color,
and spend the day
until you can
watch the sunset.
I have no doubt
he will see what I saw
and I hope that he mentions it.
I hope that you love him for it
and remember this
like an old friend.
After all,
isn't that what we are?
Old friends?
I'd like to call us that,
with old meaning close,
not burnt out.
You will always be
of significance in my life.

To The Sea // Seafret