Winter Harbor

Winter harbor.

 

Slate grey

With a short, harrying wind.

 

The chop breaks in quick slaps

Against the stern stones of the Battery wall.

 

The last curled, brown leaves

Skitter across the cobbles,

Chased by the winter wind

Like butterflies before puppies.

 

The air bites at

Sentinel skin.

 

The edgy air has chased away the summer crowds

With the leaves.

 

The people left are solitary,

Isolated each from each.

 

Winter out-of-doors is a solitary time.

Community happens within walls in the cold months.

The solitary winter wanderer,

Each an island wrapped against the edgy air,

Seeks the solitude.

 

 

Face the slate water.

Beyond the harbor mouth the iron tinted tide reaches on and on

Until it meets the lowering and cloudy grey sky.

Take a worry from your head,

Tie on a sail

And set it on the steely water.

 

Let it go

 

Onto the winter harbor.

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