Egret on a busy street in Florida.
Closed shoes obsolete in Florida.

Yearly visits, I stayed in Mom’s shadow
to hide from the mean heat of Florida.

Bony, pregnant stray yowls, ignored.
Are animals just meat in Florida?

Light years from the seaweed-dark ocean back
home, the mint-green gulf at St. Pete, Florida.

Each avenue flatter than the next. For
my calves, walking’s a treat in Florida.

Boyhood on beaches, under mango trees.
For Dad, no place can compete with Florida.

Sun, guns, retirees, turquoise sea, Latin
food, hipsters – the heartbeat of Florida.

Though I try Polly, cracker, stone, the parrot
is stubborn or stuck. Repeats, Florida.