Winter Beach - July 1, 2025

bundled against a stiff gray wind

and grayer clouds, I walk the winter

graveyard of summer’s fun

I’ve found that a good place to put a

towel under my doubts, swim without

stroking and sink into my troubles

a winter walk along a beach, dredging

up leftover grief, wallowing a bit, actually

feels good, unsettles and lifts the gloom

not too long though, a few sad comrades

commiserating in darkness are not the

same as a friend sharing a sunny day

comfort is needed, joy is desired

shared shortcomings will never replace

even a single celebrated victory