Focus on the silences, this time around,
the changes in the light, the way
the sun breaks through,
and last night’s frost arrays itself,
the liquid shapes the ebbing tide creates
along the sandy shore,
a February wind cutting sharp
and clean across my tender cheek,
the warmth of scarves and gloves,
the winter gear.
And, every now and then,
those unknown folk who pass on by,
a nod, a smile, a wave, no more—but then
no less—and the way all this bears gratitude,
and even grace to life.