Obx (Outerbanks, North Carolina) Poem

so relaxing driving
in between farms; open
old houses so as barns
dots my admiring eyes
why so many are on sale
fruit stand not open yet
beyond that farm is raging
sea, wanting to swallow
this strip of green land

few more years this could
be under salt water, sad
maybe one reason they’re
selling; still no lights
on highway though wider
than previous years, safer
we call this place OBX
ninety minutes from my place
seafood is waiting for me