Brush strokes of blue and gray
to fill in the puffy clouds.
Crayon swipes of teal and aquamarine
to meet at the neverending horizon.
Each wave swell of the purest white
to rise from the depths of dark blue.
My fingers reach for the canvas.
My eyes travel to the brushes.
I shake my head.
No painting is needed.
No copy to diminish the essence
of a perfect summer day at the shore.