Soft toes imprint the sand like roots from an old oak in the warm earthworks.
Candy cotton gulf skies end where the ocean lies.
And tides roll thru in all sizes, the rushing water travels thru as currents rise.
The warm dry sand in the crevices of our toes crackle with ever step, then water quickly tackles.
As our soft toes leave the sand to open water we feel the free,  the wobble of the earth, with no bother, it holds us.