The Mystery Bay Store
A quaint little store on Mystery Bay,
its cast iron stove stoked with hard woods,
selling fresh oysters and catch of the day—
with local ice cream and sundry baked goods.
Optional clothing whenever low tide,
as the beach sign outside proudly claims,
but summer’s a memory, such exhibits denied,
so we gather inside and sit by the flames.
Tourists stop by, dismissed by old salts,
till asked to regale us of days now gone by.
Each lifts his mug of cold foaming malts,
and each one in turn quickly spins a new lie.
The old boards ‘neath our feet creak and complain,
as we shuffle our way past good friends to the door—
counting the days until we come again,
to part with our coins at the Mystery Bay store.
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Copyright © Mark Peterson | Year Posted 2013
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