A Walk Remembered

I took the clifftop walk that day

high above the beach,

walking slowly,

carefully,

leaning against the blast

of a storm

howling in from the sea.

Standing in the lee of a rock,

looking out to sea,

I saw them,

gliding,

wheeling,

harnessing the wind,

seagulls riding a tempest.

Later,

down in a cove,

sheltered from the gale,

I trudged

through sand,

stepping around rocks

of ancient ripples engraved in stone.

Note: A revisit/rewrite of a poem written some years ago after a walk along the coast at Seacliff.