Slug South

The days end with reluctance
as May Memorials mark us
as citizens honoring our dead
those who died in the World Wars
or defending our Confederacy
we will not forget them
as the sluggish days turn hot
as the crickets the cicadas the frogs
fill our nights with sleeplessness
until we rise covered in sweat
go out and watch the early dawn
hear birds greet the first summer's day

How could we forget the summers
playing on the beach dripping
sandcastles of our imagination
as the ocean waves gave rhythm
to our blinding white thoughts
we loved the mud of the sand basins
we dug into the moats of our castles
we knew none of it would last
the change of tide while we dripped on
we had no idea what our parents
lounge chair slugs drinking beer    
thought of anything we did

Was it the heat heavy in the oaks
the songs of birds the barking dogs
chained in our dirt yards the feral cats
roaches and rats scratching our dreams
that made us slow as slugs in wet grass
those of us who saw the world were
dazzled by the vision of archetypes
the world's cities the wild Pacific crashing
against the blissed out cliffs of Big Sur
the vastness of canyons the Earth's exuberance
until we retreated on our return to our round 
shells of suspicion our mindless intransigence