Anne and I took part in the old tradition of taking a good long walk on New Year's Day. This year we went to the nearest sandy beach that offered a wide expanse for walking, Nantasket Beach in Hull, Mass. That shoreline walk provided the impetus for my poem "The Ocean's Voice," the first poem appearing in my contribution to the February issue of "Verse-Virtual."

The two following poems "Storm Coming" and "I'm in Tears" also have a seasonal setting, though "Tears" is a personal testimony to the power of music.

Here's The Ocean's Voice

Not simply words, even the sculpted words of 
     scrappy screenwriters,
but more like Zen meditations of surf upon the shore
Child that once was, old man who now relives as ritual 
     what once was adventure
Ears, thoughts, cells cleansed by reports of a timeless pulse
Heart lifted, feet moving in the wet wintry splay 
    of a long gray apron,
a stage set grandly enough for continental drift 

Days drift with the seasons 
Now I wrap flesh in layers of borrowed warmth, 
     thick as the furs of ancient animals,
and breathe clean ocean air,
the pure product of so much watery soul
      and maritime mortality
Tiny creatures ourselves, 
      earnest as a self-sheltered mollusc,
crawling crablike
to put our toes in the water, if only metaphorically

And withdraw, quite promptly, with an oceanic sigh
Ocean! you were always my mother
And Time, a little stroll on the beach
                        

You can read my other two poems, and the work by any of the 65 other poets appearing in the February issue here Verse-Virtual