Fuchsia with gold, can’t hide. Latest geometric shades cover the same eyes that saw the ocean. Fourteen I was. My little sisters, playing in the sand, my parents watching the sun go down and the fluorescent froth that came ashore. The images came rushing back.
On a wooden lounger I lay next to my husband, our seventeenth anniversary day watching with the same eyes the shadows of yesterday. Tears here and there. Elevated emotions. Here you are the same ocean looking straight back at me. Here I come a wife and a mother to greet you once again.
Thirty Years later.
