Popped up early Sunday morning
in a peaceful rush
The pelicans hastened me outside
Stretched my arms up high
as I beheld the sky
I took a deep breath and held a sigh
It was just before the sunrise
And the tide was comin' up
I was sitting on the rocks
there in a daze
The pelicans were passing in parade
just out to sea and swooping down
They caught themselves a wave
White caps cresting horizons
As the breakers gave way
8, 10, 12 of them soaring
In a sleek morning haze
It was the day of the spring festival
in old St. Augustine
So I headed down that way to take it in
It's only a few miles
from my place out on the beach
and I love driving
through the scrub oaks in the wind
By Fort Castillo de San Marcos
Over near the blacksmith's spot
Down the cobble-stone street
lies the park
Past a row of Spanish structures
Past the handmade cigar shop
lies historically the oldest city's heart
All the sweetness shining upon the city
As emotions gave way
2, 3, maybe 4 thousand gathering
in St. Augustine that day
I was standing there entranced
by one of his pencil sketches
When I noticed
that we had the same last name
So I introduced myself
And we were both amazed awhile
Exchanging out addresses just in case
We were both caught up in hustling
For survival with a grin
Looking back on thirty with a smile
I traded him an album
of my 'Pegasus Inflight'
for his portrait of 'The Mystic'
so self-styled
White caps cresting horizons
As the breakers gave way
30, 32 soaring
As the years pass and fade
As I'm sitting here relieving
how things just take their course
I'm looking at the sketch upon my wall
It's of 'The Mystic' among bubbles
filled with little embryos
It's my 'Son of Dust', the fleeting of it all
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