santa barbara

The subtle movements of the wind
gently Billowing the coarse fabric
of bright white sails,
Smoothly Skipping across the Shimmering surface,
Rippling into the sides of
Swaying boats.
It Tumbles through my hair,
across my sun-kissed skin,
In and Out the worn grains
of the dark harbor platform.
With quiet temerity,
it Orchestrates
a series of motion, of notes,
its nimble fingers boldly Skating
from one string to the next,
Plucking from them the intricate sounds of its melody,
Waiting for us
to Hear.