The sky is as grey as the pebbles
Cold sea unwelcoming to swimmers.
Snow dances to its doom in the Channel
A rare visitor to golden sand
But more alluring with each flake
Possessing a unique shape of its own
As I wander to the sea’s edge alone.
The Channel’s roar is muted
Snow melting on arrival in the sea
A reminder we are just a heartbeat
In the universal body.
I wonder if ghosts drift on this bay
Beautiful in show or a sky of blue
In a bitter breeze I admire the view.
Guy Fletcher
Pantmawr
Cardiff
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