Horse stables on the harbor beach 
unleash a stampede of fiends 
upon the pristine sands: their stomps  
engrave the shore hectically –  
shattering shells which lodge inside 
hooves. All while the lofty seagulls  
witness unbridled waking. 

This is how I imagine  
sandpipers rushing  
past the yellow-green gates  
of the beachgrass reeds 
to greet the sun and snails.