Wave of Memories

   The smells of grandpa's home

at the foot of those rocks that harbored

the soundtrack halfway through summer;

here in this island they visit me unexpectedly

those chords made of ocean

between fabrics of yesteryear and wood battered in salt.

  Shoes on the stairs,

at the entrance to a beach,

taking me on a journey to my childhood

with the smell of my skin full

of sunscreen mixed in sand,

with the tickling of fleas,

asking us to jump in the sea,

to explore rocks that open up universes,

for me to continue dreaming with

even today.