And Still They Come<\/div>\n
By Michelle Brodie<\/div>\n
August 24, 2017<\/div>\n
\u00a0<\/div>\n
Young lovers on Pauley’s Island, a Charleston Beach<\/div>\n
He lies on the sand under the stars dreaming how later her hand in marriage he will beseech<\/div>\n
Married now and she with a son near<\/div>\n
They vow to return to this beach or some beach at least once every year<\/div>\n
Like the wide plateau of the sea<\/div>\n
Their family expands as though it will never cease<\/div>\n
Little ant-infested cabins with salt-infused water like Haul Haven<\/div>\n
Are replaced with high rises up and down the coast<\/div>\n
Ha ha ha of the Laughing Gulls mocking the passage of time like a cackling boast<\/div>\n
The sky turmeric with the setting sun marks time slipping past<\/div>\n
Soon one leads to ten; it all happens so fast<\/div>\n
Still they come<\/div>\n
January brings a rare snow inland where they usually reside<\/div>\n
Not too early for a young girl to cram a grocery bag full of shorts and shirts in anticipation of the annual trip to the tide<\/div>\n
A trip that takes on enormous proportions<\/div>\n
For the year hastes away in fractional contortions<\/div>\n
Already the car is packed with kids and her nose pressed against the Barracuda’s glass<\/div>\n
Her sister’s sweaty thigh pressed against her ass<\/div>\n
“Don’t touch me!” Useless to say in the exploding confines of a car meant for six but kids piled in like hay<\/div>\n
\u00a0A blue boat sails over the glass and blots out the sun cooking her like toast<\/div>\n
Soon it’s returned to its place and they are on their way again to the coast<\/div>\n
To the coast and still they come<\/div>\n
The little cottages disappearing<\/div>\n
The growing family moves farther and farther into the clearing<\/div>\n
Til finally they are bunched up at the border<\/div>\n
And still there is no order<\/div>\n
Always chaos<\/div>\n
Chairs flipped over, papers snatched, children pounce<\/div>\n
Yet not one of them would trade any of it for a billion or an ounce<\/div>\n
As way leads on to way they might never pass this way in years to come<\/div>\n
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