Winter solstice
At the seashore
Bright blue days
But cold winds before
A lonely night

Light house of old
At the pigeon point
Where travelers came toward
The beautiful but treacherous
California coastal shore

In a fog drifting along
Intermittent solar flare
Somewhere out there
Forged where we used to be strong
Before mists enshrouded cares

Unable to see beyond
The haze and waves so bright
Groups of seven or nine
Birds with broad thin wings
Flying low, gliding close, formation fine

To see their way below any fog
Avoiding glare which
Blinds us who stare
Moving on down the coast
To see what is beyond
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