
Hugging the shore of Matanzas Bay,
Old coquina walls, built facing east
To scour the inlet for enemy fleets,
Now lay deep in sleep each incoming day.
The paths by the sea are quiet this early in the day
As the sun rises over the Matanzas Bay Inlet,
Gifting golden rays to the eastern walls and trees.
Building cloud cover above
And rumored rip current below
Infect each new resolution
With nebulous-consequence unease