One Single Impression: Miss

Driving along New River Inlet Road
To the stop
Before the bridge
That is the first step to far away
I do not miss
The smell of the ocean
Or the taste of salt
Or even the light crystallized in the foam
As the heat of morning
Dissolves the mist
And the moment
Becomes clear.

None of this
Do I miss;

I take it with me.

Instead, I miss a sensation that will not travel:

The feel of the damp sand
Inches below the warm surface
Cold and
Halfway to where the hermit crabs make their home
At the center of the earth.

I miss the digging in,
The rooted feeling,
The being home.

One Single Impression