Morning in Cocoa Beach

It's morning. A Mockingbird is singing just outside my hotel room balcony. A while ago a man from one of the beach houses down there was whistling to his dog to come back inside.

The eastern horizon is glowing a pale pink. The sky is still dark in the west. The sun will be coming up soon.

I miss you being next to me. A pillow away. An arm away. A stolen blanket away. You stealing from me, or me from you. We could be out there on the beach right now, you and I, watching the daylight come and maybe some dolphins in the waves.

I'll get up early tomorrow and go out there and run along the shore such as I do: shuffling up a ways and back. And I'll stop to watch the sun rise. And maybe see a dolphin. And think of you, wishing you were out there, too.

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