04-13-2013, 02:28 PM
Halifax
The brown pier pile stood bereft
of friends, with heel dug in
to cold stiffened sands awaiting spring.
And on his face beat winds
awash with off-white spatter,
strewn across those windy breaks
by ribald gulls.
But gulls then washed ashore
on sudden spring blows
born from harboring sun,
which kindly warmed the waters.
Those winds then turned to summer,
and carried their season to the souls
shivering on ascending walls of the sea.
They drove their heat
through windows closed,
tens of thousand strong,
to thrill awoken children,
yet chill their hearts to stone
beneath glass leaves of fall;
Then again were they laid in winter’s depths,
as the pile was then in sand.
EDIT: removed some cliches and stuff.
The brown pier pile stood bereft
of friends, with heel dug in
to cold stiffened sands awaiting spring.
And on his face beat winds
awash with off-white spatter,
strewn across those windy breaks
by ribald gulls.
But gulls then washed ashore
on sudden spring blows
born from harboring sun,
which kindly warmed the waters.
Those winds then turned to summer,
and carried their season to the souls
shivering on ascending walls of the sea.
They drove their heat
through windows closed,
tens of thousand strong,
to thrill awoken children,
yet chill their hearts to stone
beneath glass leaves of fall;
Then again were they laid in winter’s depths,
as the pile was then in sand.
EDIT: removed some cliches and stuff.