nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)

STRANGER AT THE SHORE

A stranger
On a windswept shore
Dark and sullen
Sadness to outpour
Each crashing wave
And rising froth
Of white foam upon
A silent clock.

I muttered low
Of weathers force
His eyes met mine
In due course
Lips that parted
Soon replied
With welling tears
In his eyes.

Its a day
Angry at itself
He spoke slowly
Caution spent
A stranger seen
Only once
Never again
To hear his voice.