Poem: Each Day

Each day at the beach,
The tide turns
Twice, high and low;
The wind shifts
From sea to shore;
The waves break
With news from deep.

One morning our walk,
On sand, shells, rocks,
Pulls our collars
Up to break stiff
Wind from the north,
Which assaults for faces
As we walk up.

The next sunrises;
The front pushes
The water, with wind
And tidal surges,
Now from the south,
Warming our faces,
Threatening burn.

Then, a calm day glows;
The water nearly
A mirror at dawn;
Clear water laps at
The shore, having
Deposited piles
Of cold seaweed.