Sixteen

I used to breathe in silence

I used to acknowledge the poet in me

I walked for miles on city streets in bare feet to feel the freedom of no shoes

I let my long brown hair run wildly down my back

I ate French loaves and slabs of cheese under a tree and pretended I lived in France

I hung out with the American hippies who lounged on the grasses fronting the inlet and pretended I was free

Sometimes I wore my hair in two braids like a First Nations girl

Sometimes I wore a wildly psychedelic dress and felt like a British hipster girl

I painted my lips a very pale pink so I could look like the alluring Pattie Boyd

But somewhere under all of that I was still the one I believe to be me

the girl who breathed in silence

walked alone in her heart

felt the loneliness of the foghorn

and wanted to travel all the side roads climbing into the mountains and down to the sea