The Walk Up

The silver light betrays the chill

the bitter wind which sweeps and whips

across the muted golden dunes

and blasts the trees with harsh fine sand

that once was solid granite cliffs

but nature has its final say

reduced to gravel grit and dust

even steadfast mountains bow to

the constant power of the sea

renders us so unsubstantial

brief observers in the grand scheme

standing in this sheltered clearing