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Cold
As Far as Eyes
Cold up’n cold up’n snow,
Cobalt hues as far as eyes the
Foam can follow, and
So this Island bares yet
Another of its winter
Moods, dark it seems,
Distant yet tolerant,
Somber, like a great mastiff
Allowing itself to be
Petted by a child, wary,
Watching as a few
Souls approach the
Edges of its beach, while
Atop a boardwalkâs perch
A lookout also observes,
Like performing sentry duty at
The Ol’ Grand Manse,
Studying the stick-figure
Shapes of these poor
Creatures – in the Presence
Of the Almighty they
Have come to beseech.