The melon sellers megaphone campaign
echoes out across the mountain mist topped sea:

waves,
ripple trinket necklaces of sunlight
splash
sky blue sea green
sprinkled 
pancake flat
disappearing
in another language
of bus ride traffic jams
beside the beach. 

The shape of things that pass,
made by noise
across the horizon
flows
left to right
right to left

Horns, like birds at war
resounding
a mechanical cavalry charge
lounging
static
with no place left to go but park

mouths and motors 
running temperatures
above the norm.