Lil' Bugs

The driftwood is warm.
Almost hot.
On second thought, I kick it.
Lil' bugs go running not to the sand, but around to the other side.
It's high tide, this wood has just arrived, and it's already a warm home for someone.  someones.
I disrupted things.
I am their hurricane, earthquake, Godzilla.
The waves are rising.
The driftwood is rocking in the sand.
Red, brown, grey.
The sun is setting and I am not alone.
Lil' bugs are living their lives.