By Mariana S. Tupper
It happens here twice a day:
beds of seaweed levitate a dozen feet
rivulets of sand pour down like lava
sparkling flecks of mica swirl like smoke.
When it happens again at night,
white sand turns black
moonlight catches on starfish
phosphorescence floats among the rocks
wind echoes against the sky.
Eventually the whole beach disappears,
to be revealed again when darkness
is swept off like a giant scarf
by the hand of dawn.