Egret on a busy street in Florida.
Closed shoes obsolete in Florida.
Yearly visits, I stayed in Mom’s shadow
to hide from the mean heat of Florida.
Bony, pregnant stray yowls, ignored.
Are animals just meat in Florida?
Light years from the seaweed-dark ocean back
home, the mint-green gulf at St. Pete, Florida.
Each avenue flatter than the next. For
my calves, walking’s a treat in Florida.
Boyhood on beaches, under mango trees.
For Dad, no place can compete with Florida.
Sun, guns, retirees, turquoise sea, Latin
food, hipsters – the heartbeat of Florida.
Though I try Polly, cracker, stone, the parrot
is stubborn or stuck. Repeats, Florida.