Poems spawned in the Pensacola Beach area

At the high-rise condo

After
too many trips
to refill my coffee,
I nose around the cupboards, find
a mug.
~~~~
6:30 a.m.

At this
hour, only dog
walkers, bicyclists
and joggers out in Florida’s
summer.
~~~~

the Florida dove
pole-sits. . . below, sea breezes
cool a parking lot
~~~~

Morning

A cloudless sky
in Fort Pickens
the day granddaughter
graduates eighteenth
in her class of 300+,
her AP-weighted GPA
over four-point. Her father—
my first born—proud as punch.

Swallows dive,
a dove climbs, then floats
to a tennis court fence.
Sea breezes sound like the ocean.
~~~~

How can he be sure?

My baby is forty-one,
her first-born,
a newly-legal adult,
enjoys his “social”drinking.
“I know my limit,” he says,
but he’s so new at it,
how can he be sure?
~~~~

c June 13 2011 - Pat Laster
dba lovepat press

Check out my new novel,
A Journey of Choice
available at online book sellers