Sea green

I knew a sea the color of the green tin roof
faded and shadowed
near the parking lot in town
and though it’s decades past,
the memory of warm sun and water
lifting my body as I floated
is fresh like this morning’s shower.
The afternoons were quiet
and nights dazzled with fire and music.
I was so young.
I don’t remember my skin before
lines and lumps but I recall a moment
of feeling my first break with reality
by choice- not the fantasy of a child.
A firm grasp of the unknown
and accepting fate while disappearing
in a pretend world,
filled with warmth where it counted.
It was a soft greenish sea
and I hadn’t faded yet.