A RICH MEMORY

A WALK REMEMBERED

I took the clifftop walk that day,
high above the beach,
walking slowly,
carefully,
leaning
against the force
of a storm
howling in from the ocean.

Standing behind a rock,
looking out to sea,
I saw them,
gliding,
climbing,
swooping,
using the force
of the wind,
seagulls riding a tempest.

Later,
down in a cove,
sheltered from the gale,
I trudged
through sand,
collecting
pebbles and shells,
stepping around rocks
of ancient
ripples engraved in stone.