ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
I peer out the window with only glass
between my face and the salty air
insisting I breathe it in.
A tune I cannot name
drifts through the speakers
and hooks my ears.
I recognize it instantly.
My body is dragged
back to the hot leather
backseat of my grandfather’s car,
where I shimmy my legs
trying to escape the burn
of leather cooked by the sun.
Where I push against the window,
trying to get a better listen
to the ocean waving hello.
I turn toward where my father
and his father share
the same music and
the same deep-throat crack.“
Can I open my window?”
They smile, turn back around,
one hand off the wheel,
and force my window down.
I stick my head out,
breathe in her air—
and hear her low hello.
I whisper back,
“Hello, Ocean.”
s.g
xo,
Sheridan Guerrette
The Official Poetry Collection of WSS
WhatSheridanSaid.com/Poetry
