The winter beach wields a dull knife cutting the wind
Warm memories scuttle to hide in cozy cafés
While the sea crushes the sand in a angry waves
Sandpipers hunt the lost laughter of summer in buried sand
Old men cluster along the shore, whispering in soft tones of winter’s toll
Children squint in the harsh low light of a sun too weary to climb the sky
While women in scarves and wool, keep secret dreams alive
Hope searches the horizon for the tall mast of a ship called Spring