dappled fog drifts,
between feet
crunching on the sand;
like a twining cat
in search of an early supper,
or treat from my shirt pocket.
street lights peer,
between houses,
sinking in the soil;
like a peeping tom,
in search of a tender sight,
or unexpected late night treat.
laughing waves wiggle,
between drift logs,
grinding in the sand;
like a hyper child,
in search of Easter eggs,
or treats behind the dappled fog.
ml’00