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Day Break In Florida
A tangle of moss in the new gray dawn—
Palm fronds whisper hush, hush—
Waves shiver on the sand.
The sea sighs like a tired dreamer.
Fiddler crabs scuttle sideways in the hush—
Sideways like folks around here,
Slipping sideways in the hush.
Behind ragged shacks, I stand.
Smoke curls like a question mark.
A rooster crows a single note of gold.
Somebody’s frying fish, crab cakes,
And hush puppies.
Breakfast for the sun, maybe.
Somebody’s humming the blues—
A low, slow song of yesterday’s chain gang.
But the sea keeps calling—
Even the sand listens—
Dreaming of a better tomorrow,
In nineteen sixty six.
Copyright ©
James Mclain
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