Pris Campbell
Lake Worth, Florida, USA

Riding the Wind

Too dizzy and weak from a long term illness to drive myself, my husband takes me over to the ocean where I sailed throughout the years. It’s in the low seventies with a cool breeze out of the east, and the beach is crowded with snowbirds just arrived from up north. They gaily splash in to their waists pretending the water isn’t freezing.

The sidewalk and benches are ten steps above the sand and that's where the locals sit or stroll, wrapped in jackets. Gulls ride the wind, swooping down briefly to fight over dropped crumbs, only to soar again like a giant mammatus cloud. A sailboat marks the horizon and I’m sailing again in my mind.

sand dimpled
with wind-shaped smiles
a tern's cry