Sail Ahead

By; Candice Hong '28

“sail ahead”

why is it that the more i try to
recapture the thin, golden streak of sunlight,
or recall that earthy scent of grass only that rainy friday afternoon had,
the further it 
                       ---------------------------- drifts 
away from me?

my gallery of memories are at sea,
with spontaneous ripples of wind that flap my sail,
and bumpy currents that shake my boat
as i cruise closer to the shoreline of a beach.

your map takes me to the edge of a familiar coast,
for this is my unsorted collection of thoughts.

maybe i should take a stroll.
run sdrawkcab,
criss-cross on the loose sand,
s k i p, 
and perhaps even sprint
in the wrong direction.

as if these cumbersome imitations of childish footwork
could   g r a v i t a t e   me 
back to that crystal-clear moment i think of every once in a while,
thousands
of 
frames
ago.

pause.
think hard.
follow the prints you imprinted long ago.
they will forever lay carelessly on the sandy grounds,
just so you might be able 
to follow and rediscover
those unique moments you wish you could have lived in forever for.

but slow down.
you’re one step closer,
one footprint deeper into the past,
yet somehow,
still two feet away from that old trace of reality.

you and i, 
may never be close enough to the zeros of proximity
that borderline the present and past.

and so,

why is it that the more i try to
recapture the thin, golden streak of sunlight,
or recall that earthy scent of grass only that rainy friday afternoon had,
the further it 
                       ---------------------------- drifts 
away from me?

if i turn around and trek ahead,
if i board that boxy, briny, boat of mine,
or if i hold the mortal moments in life 
in
the moment,
then being preoccupied by the paranoia of failure to dig up timeworn experiences in the future
may dissipate.

and maybe,  
i will no longer have to search,
and those memories will come back to me.