Breeze

You drive over the bridge
And you see the trees

The palm trees sway in the sandy breeze

She only goes here once a year
To see the shells sit in the soft, white sand

Doors and Windows sit on the beach houses
Toys and Umbrellas sitting at the door

Swimsuits hung up in the outside showers

Salt water taste like never before

There is a place I like to go....
It is Topsail Island

by Kristie Renee Leidenbor

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