Thomas J Marshall
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The beach is cold this late January day
of high clouds and bright metallic sky.
Small pebbles dot the sand, white and smooth and glistening,
thrown in by the storm that lashed this atlantic coast
last night and for three nights before that.
Now it is calm and quiet, except for the gulls
wheeling overhead in the freshening wind.
The high dunes sweep gently down to the flat hard sand
smoothed by weight of sea.
The light is fading now, darkness creeping in,
hiding this common grandeur.
Yet only for a night
dark has its season.
Light must come again, and ...