Here

a whisper of salt
rides the coattails
of the wind
up
from the pristine blue;

it is the scent of memories,
too many to count
or relive in this moment,

so I sit
on a hard bench
in the welcome warmth
of the sun's afternoon glow,
staring out at the water,
gazing back through time,
wondering where it has gone,
happy I'm here now