It’s where we go to gallivant

On a Wednesday morning when others can’t

Me and my dog hop in the 2012 Honda Civic

Who knew a $7000 car could be so terrific?

We travel east on the main street

I opt for the back way

Windows down 

The can of sunscreen rattles in the cup-holder

Next to it, the Mason jar of watermelon juice sits

Me and my pup are getting older

I often think about it

I take a sip 

Hopefully a dose of longevity 

I look at my pup through the rearview mirror

We both smell the salt air and take in the levity

His ears fold back in the wind 

I gain some wisdom, just watching him

All he knows is this moment

Surely he knows where we’re going

We finally park and hop out

We make our way along the path, up the dune

I’ve done the math 

For all of us, the end could be soon 

The landscape opens to miles of sand 

Out here, for once, I’m finally fully where I am 

Just a few locals, maybe a few vacationers, roam about 

The water of the Chesapeake is clear

It’s 90 degrees here

I hand my pup some fresh water first 

Hopefully his dose of immortality 

I head for the bay and he follows me 

We’re on the beach next to the million dollar homes 

I don’t bother to bring my phone 

I ditch my watch, leave it on the sand

We both immerse in the waters 

The sun cuts right through

Some days we even see little fish and skates

Our tiniest movements drive them away

Overhead: seagulls and pelicans 

Further out: unidentified fins

My pup gets excited when I swim 

So I hold him in my arms in the deep end

He’s 100 pounds but lighter in the bay 

Just like everything else 

Out here, the world melts away

We take our time floating 

And when our fingers and toes prune, we get moving

Onto the shore, to walk – just further east

The longer we walk, the more I find peace

And my pup just trots along 

When I start to sweat, the sunscreen stings 

We walk on 

I sip some watermelon juice; my pup, some fresh cold water

Neither of us is worried about anything