Beauty are the clouds that deceive
From wind and rain a slight reprieve
In the distance a soft mist
Signs that intense weather persists.
Sands whip across my shoulder
Wind whistles louder
Gulls, cormorants, puffins, gannets
Ride white horses.
Fishermen scurry for cover
Shelter until the storm blows over
Four seasons in one
Watch the mercury plummet.
(c) Chris Black. July 2018
~The Poet’s Poet~