Jan 9, 2006
Where are we going, dad?
a day on the beach, you say?
Down to the seashore to play
the surf about our knees
the familiar smell
of the gulf coast air
tangled about our hair.
We stand in the shallows
hermit crabs grab for our feet
“Maybe just a tidbit?
enough for a small meal?” they snivel.
Attached to our toes,
they won’t let go
so we lift our soggy feet
towards the hazy sky
hoping our determined riders
will not fall or fly.
“This one is in a moon shell,” you say
“This one a king’s crown.”
But that was long ago,
and now I can only frown
thinking of those hazy, lazy,
Gulf Coast days.
this is all my dad wanted for christmas. I'd have to read it to you, and you'd have to hear where I place the breaks and the inflections, for it to be particularly significant, I think.
