Sitting on a bench in the sun
watching clouds crawl across
the hills. Clouds slide by above
Stones along the breakwater
bask in chiaroscuro patterns
signifying nothing. Nor do
the 21 pelicans north, mixed
with majestic blue herons
seeking, searching for prey
to feed their nestlings who
raise a mighty cacophony
of squawk from nests we see
and those that we cannot.
And still, the tiny flowers
white, magenta, and yellow
bloom beneath our feet
scattered among the grasses.