Jekyll Island
by Kenny Norton
I miss the way the wind blows your hair
on the beach with the tide
coming up and the sand slowly disappearing
into the rocky sea wall next to me—
looking into the muddy brown ocean, listening
to the sea birds and waves lap.
The birds are singing the blues
like they remember you walking
on this same beach with your
sun hat and yellow flip flops
as we walked the boardwalk over the dunes.
At the motel, I stand on the balcony
looking at the dark ocean, trying to breathe
until I hear the baby’s cry
echoing through the door.
Tomorrow morning I'll bring
our son to the beach
for the first time, letting him
feel the salty breeze, hear the birds
and let the cool water lap over his feet—
with his sun hat and yellow flip flops.