Treasure Island

Sidi J. Mahtrow


Sarasota Florida – A Place in the Sun


Every year they come,
Like clockwork.
Old and weathered,
Weary and cantankerous,
Following the sun
That is setting on their lives.

They seek the glitzy,
The every green, the warmth,
Casting off their cares
For their time in the sun.

Maybe, just maybe
Some will see the town
Buried there
Underneath all the new
Impersonal, hurried,
Cold – yes cold,
Lifeless town in the sun.

For in an eyes blink
One sees another, Sarasota
Shell roads, deep sand,
Scrub palmetto, mosquito, flies and
Crackers making do
With their place in the sun.

Sarasota, once a family town
Where children wandered barefoot
On the pristine white sand,
Kicking a shell aside,
Enjoying their home in the sun.

The spire of the Baptist Church
Rising above it all there on Main
Beckoning all to come inside
(But now submerged amongst
The tide of scrapers
Shielding it from the sun.)

A fishing village where
One could never want for
Fresh fish, shrimp, oysters,
'There for the Taking*, '
Cast and you shall find
What awaits you in your
Place in the sun.

Yet Sarasota is the place to be
Where one can be free,
Free from the rush of life,
If only one takes the time
To Enjoy, a place in the sun.

(In Memory of Martha Louise Moore, born and raised in her place in the Sun.)

*****
'There for the Taking', James E. Moore. A book describing his many years harvesting shells from the Gulf of Mexico for sale in his shop in Palmetto, Florida.

s

Submitted: Tuesday, October 26, 2010
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