Reunion Number One - Poem by Bill Galvin
I situate locks of Deb’s hair in her favorite places.
Hunting Island State Park Beach,
Beaufort, South Carolina, Noon, March 10,2015
Tall palmetto trees dominate,
But slash pines and live oak also grow up to the beach.
The sand is the finest gray, and warm this time of year.
The drone of the gentle surf washes over and through me,
As I watch pelicans and gulls follow a crab boat off shore.
The sounds of southern birds
Such as tanagers and orioles emanate through the forest.
The sun is dickering with a coastal fog today
And it’s fun to watch each try to outwit the other.
I walk the beach, warm sand comforting my wintered feet.
We loved this place; to stop here on ways farther south;
To warm our toes as soon as we could from a wintry north.
I walk the beach, awaiting the proper spot to reveal itself.
And, in front of a natural berm of layered shells and sand,
Far enough away that only the highest of tides can reach,
I place your beautiful locks religiously into the sand.
I pat it down with the flat of my hand.
I draw a heart over the spot like a love-sick teen.
I place two dry dune straws in the form of a cross.
I speak words from a book of Zen wisdom.
I sit in Lotus position, allowing the mood to envelop me.
Tears are not shed here.
There is only calm reflection.
The locks are not buried too deep, an inch or so,
As to allow those highest spring tides at next new moon
To reveal you, accept you, and carry you away
To become part of that timeless tidal movement.
I thought you would like that, Water Spirit.
The oceans will be open to you
And you can travel far with your Piscean ways.
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