Lovely smells, warm smells
cinnamon-y, pine
sultry spring mud smells
Goodbye Charleston, my heart says
Bicycling down new paths,
Seeing the Ravenel, Ashley, and Cosgrove bridges all from one just-built dock
Napping in a stranger's docked kayak. The moon-pulled brackish water cradles me gently one last time. I get up and move on
The warm air seems to carry me forward. All is as a dream
Just drinking in the beauty.
Graceful trees arching over quiet roads,
Honeysuckle, Gardenia smells bathe me
In my blithe procession through the lands of my childhood
I am carried and given a great gift.
Like water, tugged and pulled. Giving the most deliberate impression of purpose and course. Flowing. I want for nothing, just as the trees, grass, and flowers want for nought, thriving in the fairest days and most blustery fresh storms.
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