I wonder today

 

Edisto and Me

the kid in me, the toddler,

knew the Atlantic Coast first here,

I’d toddle barefoot through the ubiquitous sand,

I’d move unprotected toward the great salty world,

more background than actor in my world,

my world more my parents and my brothers,

who wanted me to play my part in a play

none of us controlled, though each thought they did,

Edisto Island, South Carolina

today, I am 73,

I still look out at the ocean

and only get hints of what is there,

the shells, the flotsam and jetsam at my feet,

the huge flat expanse of salt water

holds worlds whose reality comes at me

only in the vaguest of hints:

I can fish and hope for a bite,

I can watch pelicans and dolphins fish

and witness that piece of the story,

and today I savored some shrimp and oysters

from that undersea world,

I loved that taste of a world I do not really know,

I hoped to see this island and beach with my two year-old eyes,

instead, I found myself unable

to feel the same wonder I did seven decades ago,

instead, I feel the wonder of a soulmate who completes me,

I savor every day we have together.

by Henry H. Walker

April 23, ‘21