Here I belong
amongst the rugged greys and guillemots
my heart in league with the furious sea
as it lashes the desolate shore.

Cries, mournful in their lament
soar through smothered skies
bearing tales of wrecks and lost lobster pots
empty now of precious cargo
ghostly on the ocean floor.

Salt air swirls and dips above the churning foam,
bringing stinging cold to ruddy cheeks and numbed hands.
A distant bell chimes as tides caress barnacled bows
lost at once within the swirling mists
that lay their sheen upon the dusk.