The end of the road.
At low tide, in midwinter,
mist covering the
cove, just visible
gulls perch on small dark stones in
silence. They sleep, stretch,
spread their long white wings.
The mist hides the opposite
shore, at least to me.
The end of the road.
At low tide, in midwinter,
mist covering the
cove, just visible
gulls perch on small dark stones in
silence. They sleep, stretch,
spread their long white wings.
The mist hides the opposite
shore, at least to me.