The moon’s an albino hedgehog this morning nibbling on the sky
A lone seagull flies low like a stalling Cessna over the Vellum
paper sea, as the 83 motors by followed by a red New World truck
telling me I can save every day 

neighbours are out walking their dogs on the beach, out of reach
as I swim in the cool fresh water (the salp have gone for now)
and there’s a light show of reflections on the wharf’s wooden piles

the crowds haven’t arrived yet with their blankets and chilly bins
even the wind hasn’t arrived (yet) and the traffic is light, 
it’s going to be a scorcher they tell us, we’ve waited for this
a day to savour in the bay