on the cool green lawn smooth legs stretch out to feel the cool against skin while fingers search among the blades for pecans brown and long just the right size to fit the palm of a small hand one end rounded one joined in a sharp point when two are pressed together and crack the buttery flavor of the nut can be enjoyed
as the soles of our feet enjoy the cool moist feel of sand not warmed by the days sun, our bodies turn without thought towards the known destination no memorable chatter remembered as we reach the piers to walk upon beside the sea wall the ocean splashes at our ankles and legs an outreached hand finds it place when the piers spacing challenges the step
soft ground and dim light trees taller than the nearest home the scent of pine rich to our noses just on the other side of the creek blocked from the view of home sitting crossed leg on the rich pine needle mat a first year in a new home finding our place beneath these tall trees
a string of days 