Back To Carolina

Palmetto fronds Just before Easter Will stick out in my mind. Sand dunes, sun and boiled peanuts Will all be left behind. Ticking clocks on the mantle Count down my return. Meanwhile, I miss the sea most Bubbling up as my friends all take a turn Riding each wave as far as it will go. I guess it really only goes to show That a place and its people Will be there for you when you return. Not looking back is the hardest of all. Can't be in two places at the same time. It'll be easier come fall When the beach empties And all goes still. I'll still miss it terribly. But return - I know I will.