i live in a state of poetry...

I live in a state of poetry...a literal and figurative song between discontent and happiness.  Days configured with rivers of dripping sweat, astronomical high tides, and equally astronomical heat indexes.  Sing-song.  Sing-song.  Feel the beat of the southland.  Hear the myth of the flat land...a past that languishes at noontide to resurrect itself for libation at moonrise.  Where one can travel a mere mile for transport through the thin veil of past, present, or future.  Where yesterday slaps the seeker in the face like a surfer’s high-tide wave with its third finger in the air--daring you to deny it.  It's a land whose pain begs remembrance, where every breeze talks of yesterday.  And if that past repeats itself one time too many on any given day, one can always order up a nice heaping helping of denial.  And then take a nap.  

Archibald Rutledge

The Compass

Regard this compass:

How veeringly the needle turns,

Yet ever northward yearns,

And at the last will come

Fatefully home.

Even so my love

Resembles

The needle; for it turns to you

And trembles.

              Life's Extras

                        Archibald Rutledge 



http://southcarolinaparks.com/hampton/introduction.aspx

North Santee at Hopsewee

Helen von Kolnitz Hyer

Santee Lullaby

Funny little furry things are creeping out of sight,

Santee, Santee,

Funny little fuzzy wings are folded for the night,

Santee, Santee,

Little stars are showing, Honey, let's be going

Fore the big, bull alligator tries to take a bite

of me-ee

- excerpt from "Santee Lullaby"

http://www.poetrysocietysc.org/poetry.html

Folly River

Photo Credit:  Pat Hay