Captjoefred

Making memories in the Tide, with ghosts of old Captains in places I’ve been, hearing the Mangroves whisper my name. Drifting forever where the Gulf waters run Deep, fighting back tears of yesterday. Salt stings my eyes, Tears of yesterday pool in the hollows of my chest, Like tide pools trapped on a forgotten shore.

The Gulf churns like a restless heart—

Crashing, pulling, breaking apart.

I stand where sand meets sea,

Shells jagged underfoot,

Each step a cut, each memory a bruise.

The horizon hums, low and gray,

Whispering secrets I can’t unhear—

Yesterday’s laughter, yesterday’s loss,

Drifting like driftwood, splintered and worn.