Breathing

A winter's day, yet sky is blue

The wind has iced the morning dew

I scramble over shifted dunes

To find the bay in crescent moons

How gently do the waves creep in

A creeping, foamless shiny skin

To coat the beach with velveteen

A surreptitious silent scene

The grains disturb, then realign

Whilst seaweed fragments intertwine

A graceful dance, a soft bequeathing

As though the sea is simply breathing