We were vacationing in the state of
palm trees and seashore in September's
mild loveliness.
Me, a sexagenarian widow,
hobbled by arthritis in my knees.
As my family enjoyed the surf,
I sat contented on a creaking
wooden pier,
taking in the salted breeze tossing
my gray hair.
I heard the seawater beneath me
ripple, then a splash,
and a masculine, "Hello,"
there in the mossy colored...
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