maggie and milly and molly and may
e.e. cummings

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles, and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles; and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea


During the climax of each painful season in my life I am drawn to the coast. It may have to do with the fact that I grew up near the ocean and consider it as a sort of security blanket, or it may be about something more significant. I opt for the latter. The sounds engulf me, the smell of the sea comforts, the wind embraces. How am I alone? I experience a cleansing whenever I am at the beach. I find myself taking deeper breaths, walking slower and feeling more alive. The waves roll in and cover me; as they roll away I imagine them carrying away all that I am letting go of. I am constantly taking in new things and giving away old things; life is flux. Tomorrow, I will go to the coast and let go.