dVerse Poets Quadrille
A Blast of Cold
Along the beach
blows a cold wind,
quick as a ghost
it travels the Channel,
and prowls the coast.
And it snows.
It’s nothing, if not
hungry for white.
A crowning drape
that we know will go.
Our sentinel snowman
melting on the shore.
Written for dVerse Poets, Quadrille #141 “Crown”. 44 words sans title. Image is Brighton beach near the ruins of the West Pier. © Misky 2021, shared with #apoemaday on Twitter.
It's Still Life 
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