Saturday's Stuff

Wright Beach, Pacific Ocean

Peering through a lens I see saltwater sprays,
Vultures spread-winged and soaring, 
Diamonds dancing on the blue.

I pull back and see kites that won't fly,
But sand that does,
Artwork created for the water to wash away.

We drive in to the small, sea-side town,
A treasure in a small store off the turn,
And, as always, today is a good day for some taffy.

Through the finger-printed panes I see a sky,
It never meets the water,
But blurs into rippling waves and blue lines of static.

I missed the sunset because I was laughing,
But the sun will set tomorrow too,
And my stomach still aches from the laughter.

Not a dusty blue book on a shelf,
No papers strewn on a countertop,
No worries about who to be when the sun rises in the morning.

Written in response to The Write Prompts