White bird in green inspires today's poem. Enjoy!
Ode to Pensacola Pass
And so it goes by so many names
In this oil war we feel so strange
Simple little acts such as riding a boat
Goes extinct and onto robot remote
Childhood dreams of Santa Rosa Island
Fort Pickens Park and children smiling
Did we just grow up to toss it out?
Those things as children a beauty shout?
Running and splashing, we had our fill
Now we slog in a Gulf oil spill
Call the Dutch boy for his finger and dike?
We may have swung our very last strike
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