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Susan K. Rowse

Sunday on Hunting Island, South Carolina

Stretches of coastline chopped into islands
Dying old trees living in silence
Wonderful lack-a-daysical day
Strumming the heart in peculair ways
Osprey out dining from tree to tree
Dragging his dinner twix he and thee
Off in the distance the Sandpiper's dance
Amid tidal influx with a seafoam chance
Pelicans, Terns and Laughing Gulls
Rotting tree trunks and old stumps that bulge
Making a Sunday more special than most
Footprints in time along the Eastcoast
There is a hand wrapped to another
Moments of grace while tender lips smother
Words for the memory laced all in tears
Wondering if hopes can hold down the years
Seconds stand still on wings of a whim
Shudders are open to catch it on film
Moments so full and recalling time
When long legged damsels tasted a rhyme
Back in the days when hearts ran so free
Open and shut, longing to be
Time in a capsul refreshed anew
Chasing the tears as yesterday flew
Hunting Island...lost to a thought
A Rebel in hoopskirts with her own Swampfox
Mysterious spirits break in a new day
Along silent barrier islands that play
Host to the memories of days gone by
When romance is caught in low misted sighs
Trailing the dreams of Dixie and ghosts
Dangling in time along the Eastcoast
Nature and trees and tides all sashayed
Making a moment important today.