My thoughts are not 
ocean waves,
decisive, strong,
determined.

They are the line 
where the lake meets sand
in dishwasher foam
and coffee cake crumbs,
shells wound with seaweed 
and dappled pebbles,
each rocking wave 
carrying hidden treasure

like my children place trinkets
in my palms and pockets 
all day long, quietly calling
in their going out and returning,

“Here we are, 
here we are.”

Jenna Brack is a writer and teacher living in Kansas City. She has an M.A. in English and enjoys good coffee, serious conversation, and not-too-serious fiction. Find her on Twitter @jennabrack or Instagram @jennabrackwriting.