The tide pools at Otter Rock

and the seagulls get busy.
Tiny creatures are on the move.

Fish make use of sandy camouflage,
caught among a salty seaweed salad.
cabbage-red twists
rubbery spotted braids
of tangled jade-green

Low tide reveals rocks snug in emerald angora.
silky, moss-colored rabbits seem to move under water
soft fur drifting in slow motion up and down
until the currents capture them, clip their fur
to spin and weave lovely blankets
for the rocks along the chilly Oregon shore

Watch as the middle-tide waves tack on a foamy, lace edging.

High up on the cliff
tourists read pamphlets
discuss the windy view
then wander over to the diner
for chowder and beer.

Tiny creatures, on the move.

Far below the tide has already changed its mind.
filling the Devil’s Punch Bowl
names carved into the walls
down narrow red passages
soon scrubbed clean again
spilled by the undertow

Another generation swirling into the blue mouth of the sea.