Breeze

Late-June breeze

clouds move east,
backing away from the Pacific edge,
revealing gray wet sand.

Bubbles rise to the surface;
critters burrow below –
must be gasping for air.

Gulls watch, eyes alert, spying,
seeing the bursting bubbles
they swoop to find a sea-food treat.

Sun breaks through,
and back at my tent,
under the trees…
the wind shakes the branches.
The result,
myriad patches of sun spots
scattering, dancing
in the still dew-damp grass. 

Eyes closed, I feel that dance,
warm fingers tapping over my bare arms.
The sound is rushing –
a natural white noise,
disguising the noise of life walking nearby.