Padre Island

We were listening to The Beatles White Album. I hear the song While My Guitar Gently Weeps. Martha My Dear.
…Martha my dear hold your head up, you silly girl. Look what you’ve done. When you find yourself in the thick of it. Help yourself to a bit of what is all around you, silly girl…

Wise words from my favorite band.
I guess I needed to hear them. I’m trying, though.

The beach looks and feels different on Padre Island than Corpus Christi. Someone’s flying a kite. There seems to be more space. It’s calming. Until the girls in bikinis park close and the boys act like idiots, shot down and obvious.

He came to me
Helped me
Dug me
Dug into the mud

I felt weak
I could barely dig
He jumped into the water
He swam in the ocean



The mud was like lava flowing
Milk chocolate pudding
Or chocolate frosting

And then I heard the song Blackbird.