Tuesday, November 23, 2010


I am standing in line at the Boston Logan airport, waiting to board my flight for California, when I glance out the plate glass window and catch sight of light on water. Unexpectedly: the bay. The sea, after all. It is like a secret there amid the vertical array of buildings and bridges, the whispered intimation of that expansiveness that fills my ribcage and swells in my marine heart. I will fly toward the Pacific today, oceanic home of mine, and for the first time in three months, my feet will touch her grey sand, my head will receive her aquatic kiss.

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