salem is alot like plymouth.
well, except you aren't here.
and there are no secret bridges or gazebos.
maybe the wind blows differently here; I think the air is better on the south shore.

we stood on the cliffs in manomet today.

he said any kid would be lucky to grow up there.

but I spent a thousand weekends, hundreds of summer afternoons.

there's still buried treasure in the sand dunes on the point.

(silver matchbox cars, snail's shells, plastic barrettes marked with an X.)

somehow, we lost it.

you still forget, sometimes.

how good the wind feels.

how you never want to be anywhere else.

..
promise me we'll go more often this summer.
if nothing else, we have to.