Salt burns the edges of the leaves
As the wind whips up the white sands
Stinging quartz crystals scour me
Before curtained and waving bands
Of deluge and flashing stark scenes
Can drive me here from where I stand
This coming tempest is set free
To assault my whimpering land
With wind and wave and leaning trees
And grasping gelid frost bound hands
It occurs that I am shivering
For 2021 is now at hand