An untitled poem

On New Year’s Day we sat

on the beach wrapped in coats

and hats and mittens against

the cold and an icy spray that blew

in from the ocean collapsing dark

and foamy onto the shore, a crescendo’d

roar falling away and repeating itself,

foreshadowing something we didn’t see

as we held hands and stared alone

across the channel to another place

perhaps we each longed to be, looking

back at ourselves and wondering;

but that was so long ago I barely remember.