Muscadine Lines: A Southern Journal

My Life by Water, Part II

Kristi Castro

a lowcountry poem
smell that marshmallow

swash lines, pluff mud
cordgrass blades like quickhatched
                           pen and ink
                                         slash through the marsh
                                         sucking salt, bent tough  
inhale brack
pail of shells
             sinks into sand
waves converse
boogie boards bob
together, no-see-ums
flaking lips, bits of shell
gritty itching
        the       thump      thump
                             as sand
                                      hits           the tub
flip flops
   slap slap
       into Piggly Wiggly
seaweed strands of wet hair
shirt shivers back 

Krispy Kreme  by the sea

Grand Strand            First Week
          van doors   slide             open
              jangling beads, pagers     beep

crabs     shagging in                 the sand
            drop in the pot
frogmore stew at The Steamer
   local shrimpers
            used   whatever    on hand
a deer runs         with the bike
snake in tree             hangs low
alligator silently              slips
baby sea turtles                    flipper
                         across            sand
dragging tracks on dark beach                  moon guide

                                                    finding their way


Kristi Castro is an archivist, English 101 instructor, and occasional barista.  Her writing has been in not enough night, summer stock, Pipebomb, and is forthcoming in the 2008 Anthology of Younger Poets.  Some of her current projects include a re-mixed deconstruction of The White Album and a chapbook about cheese.

© Kristi Castro

Muscadine Lines: A Southern Journal ISSN 1554-8449, Copyright © 2004-2008