an old writer and his words

We walked slowly alongfeet sinking in the sandafter waves swallowed the sun.We could smell its approachbefore the first winds sweptashore pushing sands againstbeach chairs turned for night.Two dogs ran over dunesknowing what would come,drawn by clatter of hammersplacing plywood shuttersover windows and doors.Clouds, an ebony pall, gatheredmocking, waiting for a momentwhen the lid would be…