St. George Island Reunion

When I begin the long, straight drive
Over the bridge from East Point
To St. George Island,
I will see the oystermen in their boats
Bobbing out in the gulf
And the sun will rise golden
In the eastern blue beyond,
Far off toward Tallahassee,
And I will roll the windows down
So I too can catch a sniff
Of the elemental musk
Of the ocean and the bay
Spreading out like glass beyond the bridge,
Lapping softly against the powdery sands
Of St. George,
And no matter how many years may pass.
And though lines may crease my sunburnt face,
The hairs falling from the top of my head,
I will still find the red-headed child in my heart
Running down the soft, white sands,
Chasing the surf as it rolls and thunders
And holding hands with my love
As we watch for dolphins swimming in the sea
The afternoon sun stroking the western sky
Pink and orange and crimson, in imitation
Of the seashells we find washed up on the beach.