On the Beach

Thick blobs of mashed potato clouds
with ragged edges
are whipped into frothy creaminess.
Here and there, thin veils of cloud
are smeared and scraped across the sky
as though spread there, deliberately,
with an artist’s palette knife.

A line of powder blue mist
hovers o’er the horizon.
Shimmering sunlight dances
on sparkling waves as shadows of gulls
glide smoothly across the sand.
Rays of light fan out from behind the clouds,
shooting downwards to kiss the lake.

Roaring, crashing, splashing waves
encroach upon the shore.
Screams of small toddlers
are smothered by their roar.
Each wave chases the ones ahead,
racing to outrun the ones behind.
Black silt and debris
wash up to blend with the shoreline.

Buzzing boats
are pounding and bouncing
across the windblown waves,
slamming down hard on crests of foam.
Big boats sporting bathing beauties on their bows.

Blinding, bright light
flashes on the windshield of one
that gently rocks from side to side
as the lake flails it about.
Girls on the deck toss tidbits of food
to squealing seagulls that squabble and swarm.

A moored fishing boat
is pummelled in the wake
of a passing ski-doo.
It grinds and scrapes against the dock,
screeching and grating as it bobs up and down.

And I, on the beach,
drink it all in.
Sinking into soft sand,
my feet relish the warmth.
I wriggle my toes down deeply,
melding with the earth.

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