Waldron Island

Tin trucks with half-flat tires,
Keys resting in the front seats,
Waldron is a special place.

Not much to fear here,
Hard to get lost with only one road,
But I manage to anyways.

"Go past the big rock, you can't miss it"

I don't miss the big rock,
Wondering how it came to rest in its spot,
As snakes slide into ferns lining the dirt road.

A warning caw from above,
Is aimed at a bald eagle
In search of brunch.

A mile later,
Past the roosters, chicken, and sheep,
I find the largest building on the island:
The school.