Seasonal Adjustment Disorder

The air is warm, the cool breeze
chills, the sea swells. Surf's up -
tide's high enough for the crash of waves; low though, so the roll
and drag conundrums the beach. Sea's coming in, stones polished,
shells broken; mountains become sand - gangs of parrots
shell pine-cones, a flock of gulls caw and a herd
of speckled beach towels don't budge an inch.

edit07

again

BLM

Lockdown