4am. Cold floor. Warm baja shirt and a little jaunt to see if the raccoon’s tail was still hanging out of the tree. Nope. He’s on his way. I wonder if I’ll see him again?  A neighbor walks past my window and tips his hat hello to me because he knows I’m up at all night. He’s on his way to the Navy base. I watch more Navy people leave their homes and head out and they do not allow the door to the parking lot slam, and I want so much to thank them for not letting the door slam. 
Purple. Blue.
Balcony rail heavy wet with dew.
A container ship passes through the channel, moving like a small city or an island, one wonders how any of them fit through. I can hear its engines, or maybe just the throbbing of, as it obeys the nautical speed limit.
Sky pale purple like a pen running out of ink. 
The maintenance guy’s cat saunters and I pssst she wanders over and I stroke her back, tentative, because she’s not for sale, she is marshmallow white, toasted, burnt, tail flags straight because she wants some and I give her some, and I walk back upstairs while she stands guard over sand sculptures. 
I watered my plants and observe they are overtaking the windows. I will need to move soon because there will be no room left for me. I thought it was funny but my brother doesn’t think much of it at all. 
A person, hooded, walks on the sand as if she is avoiding landmines, careful, careful, step here don’t step there. I wonder contemplate her posture this close to land.