Reid@YWP

I’m four years old and it’s pumpkin season again. 

I’m holding tightly to my best friend’s mittened hand 

and feeling the wind whipping at my face, 

turning the tip of my nose pink, 

We all live different lives

We all feel different feelings

"What's wrong with being different?"

That is the question I ask myself every day

Yet I still don't know the answer

I’m at the ocean again, 

and I feel at home again. 

The salt breeze always reminds me of seaweed, 

green string stitched into blue silk, 

brown tangles piled on the rocks' edge.