Dreams on the Beach

The ancient wash of spring downpours
is flowing down through summer beds.
Where smooth stone breaks, the bright stream roars,
freefalls to echo thunderheads.

The fallen water fills a pool.
Alone, I stroke the resting flow
and glide on surface smooth and cool.
Below me clear green fishes glow.

The water holds a thicker hue,
as current slows and sunshine warms.
Downstream a shingle bounds the blue,
and here I rest on my forearms.

I’m stretched out still in swimming pose
with legs behind me floating free.
While tiny fishes peck my toes,
an atmosphere envelops me.

Robin Cravey