A Site of Pure Fiction

Sunday Drive

Always I seek; let the road never end.

This swamp, the Timucuan’s haunted abode:
Gray beards of spanish moss hang from the trees,
Contorted by salty, thunderstorm breezes.
Hidden danger lurks here in still, green ponds,
While tall grass guards the ocean’s nursery.

Always I seek; let the road never end.

The ocean! All paths lead me to white sands
Piled into a hump by a playful wind.
Like angry old men, crabs wave from their holes
And swirling seagulls screech their greedy cry.
The rhythmic tides, a potent siren’s call.

Always I seek; let the road never end.

Too strong to resist, despite “No Entrance!”
Especially this night, a full-moon Yule.
Small waves lap the sun-bleached remnants of trees–
Bones of giants aglow in Artemis’ rays.
From the shore, the sea calls me closer still.

Always I seek; let the road never end.

Deep into Poseidon’s depths I must dive–
A turmoil of bubbles; I’m in his realm
Flying as sure as any bird in the sky.
Schools of fish perform intricate ballets;
Beyond the shelf’s edge, secrets of the abyss…

Always I seek; let the road never end.

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