Surfers shout and roll in on waves
Gulls scream and float on the wind
As the mist blows in silently and blanks out the sun
The curtains in Sker house shiver at the cold wind
Rushing the mist across shore, rocks and walkers
The sight hounds become agitated as the mist moves over them
Limiting their protection
The wind dies
The surf lays still
The gulls roost quietly
The surfers foot prints run through the sand
The sight hounds are blind
The doors at Sker house are open
Walkers walk quickly back the way they came
Peripheries dancing left, right, back and forth
The lady of Sker, watching, waiting
Surf crashes the drying rocks
The sun breaks
Walkers smile
Boards are floated
Gulls scream
The sight hounds look, teeth bared
In the direction of Sker house
Curtains closed
For now
A ghost story and true.