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  • Writer's pictureTony Frobisher

The Sea-Winter

The Sea-Winter Last light by the shore And the town folk idly walk, Listening to the waves That tintinnabulate Among the myriad pebbles, The sound a discordant reminder That once darkness emerges From the grey crepuscular light, The sea quietens. Dampened in the small hours, But is never silenced. And the town folk stroll And drink in the brine-air Fortified and reinvigorated On the sea-winds. Reminiscing with salt lips And joy in their thoughts. The sea remains as they do, Hidebound and unchanged. The seafront is deserted, Save for the hardy town folk Who stride in stiffening gale, Frost fall and first snows. Desirous not for summer's return, And the tourist horde That swell beach and street And fill the night air With bawdy shouts and drunkenness. No. Bring the winter seas And the evening light that fades Into each unfolding wave, Absorbed in the shifting pebbles. Bring us the sea-quiet of winter, The town folk softly say, As they stand and watch the dying light And head for home, Sea sprayed and soddened haired. The sea-winter has come. _____________________________ There is a melancholy that descends upon seaside towns in winter. Devoid of the throng and noise of tourists, the town folk remain in the quiet of approaching winter. But you always see the hardy souls strolling along the seafront promenade, as twilight descends, taking in the sea air...delighting at the quiet of a sea-winter. 

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