The Artist

Every sand dune between Tybee and Daufuskee has your name on it;
every sea oat, gull, and shrimp boat.
Not having any more particularly pressing business to tend,
you immortalized these timeless features.

And if anybody was stubborn enough to immortalize something that was already timeless,
it was certainly you. And you did it flawlessly.

With no mountains around you for three hundred miles,
if you wanted to take a hike, you just made your own.
Finding flying foolish, you'd dive into your own clouds,
bobbing and swishing. Sunsets would erupt.

Your world around you spoke through you.
I see you crossing through your canvas, now, into it.
Able to be your subject and paint it with your heart at the same time.
When the seabreeze strokes the grass on the sand you'll be there.
When a net is tossed off a rickety pier you'll be there.
When a gull calls you'll be there.
Always.

Rest in Peace, Aunt Cissy