Red Sky

1/30 NaPo write

The dog wanted wet sand for breakfast
so the car had the oceans scent in its nostrils,
skittling down single track roads
forcing bread van's and jogger's
to dodge inside plump hedgerow's.

The morning was damp and deafening
a larva lamp orange spilled out its warning
onto the clawing nails of white foam
that slapped a hand across
smooth wet sand.

She made her marks four at a time
barking back at the chasing tide
as I found a calmness in the throng,
a moment of solitude, sea glass green
that can only be found on empty beaches.

My thoughts floated on cool thermals,
a place to rest under the wings
of hovering gull's.
A milk and two sugars mind
emptying with the coffee flask
ready to face the first
bacon sandwich of the day.

I shout her name across the rock-pools
then see her running like a mad fool
towards the call of beach-café shutters
as they open their smell to a sensitive wet nose.