Winter at sea,
cold beyond cold,
has no words
to warm and comfort.
Rocks know this.
Stones and pebbles
have an inkling.
Sand grains catch
faint drifts at night.
Beaches in storm
know the winds
that winter-lash,
as do Gibraltars,
close to summary
and full consent.
Winter at sea
is cold communion
with a winter truth
too old words.
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