Nobody’s out here
today. There’s a cold wind the
sun makes colder. The
gaunt pine bristles with
light. Still I sit under it
and watch the dark blue
waves roll in, deeply
folded with glassy black sides.
I miss my father.
NEAR PROVIDENCE 11.10.21
Nobody’s out here
today. There’s a cold wind the
sun makes colder. The
gaunt pine bristles with
light. Still I sit under it
and watch the dark blue
waves roll in, deeply
folded with glassy black sides.
I miss my father.
Metaxyturn Diaries 
Ah … this is deeply poignant Tom. Your closing line (unexpected to the reader, if maybe present surreptitiously from the beginning) should speak to many. And along the ah, I paused to appreciate the thought that the wind is made colder here by the sun.
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