By Daphne Holley

A morning on the beach means 

That the sun has just risen

And everyone is still tucked in their beds.

A morning on the beach means

Salty air

That stings my tongue

And blows my hair into a tangled mess.

A morning on the beach means

The sound of a windchime

Ringing in the distance,

Overlapping with caws of seagulls.

This particular morning, 

The waves are slow and gentle

A bigger one lurches forward

And grants me a gift

Of a glass bottle 

Sealed tightly with a cork

A rolled-up note waiting inside

I step back,

Leaving footprints in the sand

Another wave crashes forward

Even bigger this time, 

Soaking my feet

All the way up to my ankles

Erasing the history of my steps

And engulfing the seashells resting on the shore.

I pick up the offering

Before the ocean has a chance to take it away

I examine it,

The bottle looking new,

As if it had just been sent off

But the note is dated to three years ago. 

The message is cryptic, in a way,

With illustrated emoticons 

And a few doodles and lines.

I send it back,

Assuming it wasn’t meant for me

Perhaps it was a child,

Sending a picture off for a parent

Or an artist,

Preserving some of their earliest work.