This day could be overlooked
It could be shouldered aside
Without even thinking about it
If you weren’t moving around
Watching for spring’s surprise
But the day held its own beauty
In clouds and moisture and sun
All playing across small fields
I drove an hour through change
From clear vantages to dense fog
The world’s vignettes shook me
I felt so open and then so closed
From high up I could see forever
White cotton batting ropes of cloud
Like braided snakes across near islands
Joined white crusts of thick fog
All bellied onto dark foghorn seas
The wet and silver-squinting road
Descended darkly into a belly of cloud
Changing gradually into a dull ribbon
As cloud smudged the floating sun quiet
Hiding half of its light in the mist
Cloud moisture clung to the cool road
Waiting to embrace a warmer season
Then the road led into the light again
The road ran again from blinding silver
To wet-rubber-black when it descended
Toward the still and heavy salt ocean
Across the beach of clean wet stones
Crackled by endless fingers of waves
Each bright stone inspected and placed
Just where it needs to be right now
Thank you to the sea and the sun
For their endless joy in change
As clouds cloak me from the sun
Inside their miracles of moisture
Breaking open the moment's beauty
