Dry weather has parched the marsh,
leaving a strange susurrus of dry leaves
on the beach path, green transmuted
to feuillemort umber. Pine needles
dangle like tinsel on holly,
foreshadowing winter festivities.
At water’s edge, steely waves
whispering below the slate sky
have undermined the shore,
abrading sand as time
erodes the seasons.
A brief scintilla of sunlight
escapes the clouds’ control.
Just yesterday, it was summer.