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.