A Change of Scenery.

On the sidewalk the lap of waves strokes the rocks below.
Pools of life gather in the sunshine; some die, some thrive.
Further along the beach a parent plays, and an escape overtakes him.
The winter sun reflects off the water,
blinding the windows of the big hotels behind me.
I stand with the wind whispering in my ears,
and the call of the gull makes music with the waves, the wind, the people.
My lips are salty and my nose is red, dripping,
and my hand rests on the rusting blue railings
where the smell of dirty seaweed lingers.
The beach fills me up.
The steps down to the sand are gritty but when I reach the flats
all I can hear is the echo of the sea.
There is a boat in the distance coming into the harbour,
waiting for the tide.
The fairground sounds from the next promenade float and swarm on the everlasting wind.
I sit on a rock warmed with the sun, and I lap with the waves.