I remember that morning,

Even though I was young.

The graying streaks in her once blond hair,

My auntie and I took in the morning air,

And the taste of a salty breeze resting on my tongue.

“Watch your step,” she told me,

Pointed at the rocks.

Large ones, small ones,

They must weigh tons,

So we stepped with care, no shoes or socks.

An abundance of crabs scuttled along the sand,

And my auntie and I watched where we stepped,

Avoiding the chance of a claw to the foot,

And a sad look,

But we finally made it to where the water crept.

I watched as the tide came in and out,

As if the ocean was teasing the sand.

When I look back on the memory I made,

I close my eyes and wish that I could have stayed

At the beach where the rocks were too big to fit in my hand.

And my auntie, who always reminds me of who I am today.

I’ll draw the same beach, where the two of us would stand.