Paradise Drive

By: Kayla Brethauer

Turquoise vinyl siding
a green darker than any Carolina marsh.
Twenty steps up to the front door.
Fifteen more to the bedrooms.
Will the luggage make it to its destination?

A new tenant
each week of the summer.
Schlepping around their swimsuits
and children and
canvas Aldi bags with a
dwindling number of snack foods.

Traffic ebbs and flows
along with those vacationing.
Weekend beach walkers
hoping to find a ghost crab or two, instead
find themselves photobombing a slew of family photos.

The tide washes in, and
rolls away
like the squealing tires of a travel-packed SUV.
Monday morning,
long after the last of the hatching turtles have waddled
into the sea — a silver minivan turns onto
Paradise Drive.