Memory at the Beach

[billy]

I remember the absence of sound
and the syrupy light warming everything;
my face tipped above the lapping water
and my toes burrowed in sand
as the sea drags me by the neck
over and over
like a large, affectionate friend.

Somewhere far away my father sits fuming
and my mother has gotten tired.
But I keep my eye on the waving buoys i love this line.
and imagine crossing that distance
towards a fearsome heaving embrace
while the salty wind dashes over me
like old tears in reverse,
evaporating
against the breadth of a larger world.

i can't really find anything in it that would make it better than it is.
the images are great. the affection for the sea in the nostalgia is
obvious, i think you captured a slice of childhood perfectly. especially where you ignore dad. i think it's a publishable piece of poetry.
thanks for the read.