The south wind brings the Gulf to my fields,
sea-scent sighing across the grass-tops.
Only the dragonfly hovers here,
motionless over waves that find
no shore, know no seabirds' cries.
Yet there is a whisper of salt in the air,
a half-remembered tale of the sun.
Fifty miles and more it is
to the Gulf, but when the wind
lies in the south, it comes to my fields.
Stephen Brooke ©2010
So, two poems in two days...don't expect me to keep this up! I can catch a distant scent of the Gulf of Mexico here, occasionally (and did, today). Pretty far away for it to be commonplace. That's one thing I do miss; most of my life I've lived within a few miles of the Gulf or the Atlantic.
Sun May 16, 6:16PM -- revised this a tad, one line didn't quite scan properly!