We needed the coldness of the open ocean,

we needed to feel the wind of Narragansett find every part of skin,

we needed to learn the meaning behind the name of the just-fine beer,

we needed to watch the sanderlings poke their beaks into the ground the waves left behind, real quick before the ocean came back, then skitter away as one,

we needed to run through a cemetery,

we needed to find ghosts between leaves,

we needed to learn that H.P. stands for Howard Phillips,

we needed to see that his grave is actually quite small,

we needed to…

Denise Robbins

Writing, climate activism, breathing.

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