White sugar sand,
Arched coconut palms,
Gin clear water,
Waves keeping time as steady as a metronome.
Watered-down, fruity rum drink,
Straw hat and sunglasses,
Faint hints of smoke from redfish on the grill somewhere down the shore,
$5 million sport fishers returning with 6 drunk guys from Des Moines and the day’s haul,
A cheap radio playing my “Good stuff” playlist on shuffle,
Sunscreen and longnecks sharing the cooler,
One footed gull patrolling for a dropped french fry.
Wife napping one hammock over,
Drone of diesel engines from a shrimper dragging its nets,
Pod of dolphins meandering, coming up
for a breath,
Sun setting on the watery horizon.
What day is it?