Everyday Life

Goleta, California

The barking seals would wake me up,

And I'd peek through the window to see the fog.

The ground would be barely visible.

I could barely make out the eucalyptus trees, that led to the ocean.

I miss how I'd hear the foghorn every day,

And greet my friends on the playground, yelling for them before i saw their figure.

I miss the sound and smell of the ocean,

Taking walks before dawn to the bluffs.

The tiny kitchen  where my breakfast noodles would be waiting.

The monarch butterflies,

The "crocodile" pond,

The fairy houses,

The chimney that stuck up randomly from the sandy path,

The fields of wild grass i used to walk around in

The winding trails running up and down the coast,

The rope swing I found and played on with Jack, the dog

The little wilflower garden under the apartment stairs.

The co-op in Isla Vista,

Freebirds, with amazing, genuine mexican food

Walking around the plaza around the holidays,

Reading in Borders, curled up with a stuffed animal party.

I miss all of these things, they built me up,

And I wish we hadn't moved.

But something I'll always remember, even when the details fade,

Is the sunrise over the ocean in early winter, before the fog's crept in.