I have been plowing through all of the papers and bills and photos and artwork and journal stuff and letters—I came upon this poem, written when we were first arrived in Florida.
I like the way my mouth feels as I read it aloud. It’s not a thing that I would share anywhere but here. I want to remember I wrote.
"Morning News"
cewhendry Florida 2005 I love to read the news at dawn That’s written in the sand. A dog was here to sniff the air And with him was a man.  And lots of birds have breakfast-ed And filled themselves upon The insides of the mussel shells That twinkle in the dawn.
The gulls fly with their feathers spread They overlook the sky So that when I toss food up They grab it, passing by.
The sanderlings run in and out Before the surf’s wet line They move as one in families Of Seven or eight or nine.
The Royal tern has quite a beak Of orange sweet and bright Among the other sandprint news His feet forge trails ‘til night.
I walk along the beach myself With bare feet all the day. I like to think I add my news For others on their way.
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