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In the early morning hours
a dank gray mist
slowly makes its way
from the everglades
just two miles away..
The waters of the canals
and lakes begin to stir
in ominous wakes
that gracefully dance
toward the shore
slowly and silently
hiding death's fury.

Life in the everglades
returns to the place
of its beginnings.
It is mating season
vicious and deadly
to all living things.

Editing stage: 


holy shit..

this is writing
pure...clearer then
clear..I want to
hunker down
can feel the night
the heat
see the water

I know the mists
up here..they crawl
through the valley
feilds thick like a
magical and powerful
we quit working at dusk
and were in at night
my friend

this is a tremendous

thank you!

I know Florida well, Steven, and I hate it. All I described I what I have seen in the past 22 years,

Thanks for reading me, my friend,


author comment

An old Long Haul trucker I knew would discuss Alligator Alley..
I read books on the swamps keenly interested in its people
and enjoy the gator hunting shows....
alertness...a symbiosis
and change there too....

twenty two years........
in my time it seems like yesterday
those years...

of course its not...

time frame here..
watching the clock
gotta get on the roll
eat dinner from someplace
here in town..

I did get to Jamiaca
once with the family..
saw the beach..
the mountians
when we took a tour
the tin shacks and the
immense wealthy

the old british plantation

had a chance to drive to
and studied it ...its water system
of all things..
the submerged limestone
caves and blue holes
when the glaciation period
reduced the level of water..

I remember the palms
on the island
still do..

I read you.....

thanks for writing!

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