That is not to say I have given up, but I must say this: the ocean does not want me to write about it.
I spent a week there. I didn’t think I’d like it nearly as much as I did. And once it began to grow on me, I started having ideas. So many ideas, changing slightly each day. So many ideas, I thought I’d put them away for later, right? Let them simmer?
Now, of course, they all seem silly, and I think I know why. What can I possibly say to describe the ocean, or a moment in the ocean, or the thoughts of one universally insignificant girl as she stands next to it? The nerve!
Ok, I just read the previous paragraph…and I’m a little embarrassed. But, I’m not going to delete it. I’m going to let it remind me of all the reasons why I should write this poem. I simply need to find my moment with the ocean. That’s right, Atlantic, you’re on my list…