I think this is lovely Gary. Wondered if you needed the first clam (clam
chowder), seeing you specify clams a little later in the S.

Cheers and thanks for the shared memories,

Frank


South Beach, Low Tides

When I smell onions, I remember
clam chowder simmering in the double-wide
on a Memorial Day weekend afternoon,
fresh baked bread ready to remove from the oven,
clams dug from the granite sand of South Beach,
morning fog so thick it plugs up your nose
with salt air and the odor of dead crabs at low tide.

When I see your new scarlet dress, I think
of a windsock riding along the beach
a vain attempt to fly a sock mistaken for a kite,
Willy's red pickup stuck in the creek,
another futile effort to beat the tidal flow.
Hazel  claimed it was the fourth he left
stuck in the mud to rust until it drifted to China.

When I hear a train whistle, I'm taken back
to days when the Southbound came through at 5 am
and the Northbound at dinner, the first our alarm
to rise to dig, the evening run for pennies on the track,
flattened souvenirs found many years later
among sand dollars, kite string, Nehi bottle caps,
and a ruby shoe, size 2, rescued from the surf.

When I taste hot chocolate laced with whipped cream,
memories of peanut butter sandwiches, wild strawberries,
root beer Kool Aid, burnt hot dogs and marshmallows
flood back like high tide washing an empty beach clean.

IF MY MAIL BOUNCES, MAIL [log in to unmask] AS AN ALTERNATIVE.....April Arthur
Seeley and Gary poetry poems at:
http://gardawg.homestead.com/gardawg.html --- Writer's Hood at
http://www.writershood.com/..... Poets for Peace.... ¡Poemas sí, balas no!