pilgrims, nomads, sentinels against the fury of the coast:
backs bent sidelong,
they sway with loving ease under the eye of that relentless ghost.
the ocean draws its breath.
that salt-stained silhouette of shore under a frosted glow:
a mirror pool,
thunderclaps of memory accost the tidal mouths below.
she smiles in her sleep.
in dreams aquatic, giants, titans cry their hopes and fears alike:
the air collapses,
the column pauses, dreading, waiting in anticipation for the strike.
and yet, the dawn arrives.
A winter's storm against the shore. The fragility of everything. The beauty of destruction. Stone thoughts that were stuck in my head while I was penning this one. Did it come through? Not so sure.