A poem, written on the fly. Titleless.

dark clouds are digging away the sand beneath my feet during low tide...
owls watch as the tiny sand fleas crowd around and clams shoot water into my ears
the sand around my feet fills in and tide pools liquefy warmth to my new roots
seagulls voice their opinions at crows
the wind picks up as the day wears and sunshine mingles with the clouds
i feel the wind, and hear it along the tree lined bluffs behind me
an impatient moon fails in it's attempt to hurry the sun along it's path
clouds come down to the ground and steam blurs the boundary between water and air
the distant mountains catch fire

(originally "published" in a forum post on Etsy.)