Windy beach

Torn cloud subverts

sun’s flat banality

and builds dimensions,

shadow-shuddering

through shifting sand.

Vistas appear within the

swathe of dark and,

for a moment, live –

before the tumbling grains

efface what once they formed.

The margin foams marshmallow,

gauzed with haloes, angel haired,

defying gravity before the moment’s arc

tips chaos into beauty.

Behind,

the clumsy, un-blue sea –

flecked-fidgeting,

is waiting to be frayed.

A bird, oblivious to

wind, sand, wave, and me,

walks, bobs and treads

the beach, just like a stage.

And warm behind a window,

glass in hand,

I watch.