Bates Beach

With the urgency of the surfers running down the steps racing out to huge, loud, tubular waves.

As the chill of the Pacific cuts against my shins.

I turn my back to the sun and excitement and feel a deep familiarity rise up through the shadow cast before me.

The hang of the arms and hands.

The tilt of the head. Or the same haircut?

Weight on one leg.

A pointed toe digging in wet sand, especially in the movement….

I notice….

Me meeting me.

In the shadow today on Bates-

In a photo taken 46(?) years ago-

A future 46(?) years from now.

Me meeting me.