Fauntleroy

rain
turns to sleet

waves crackle down the beach
firecracker strings as the lunar year wanes
and the ferry in retreat
a great oil drum rumbling
its pistons humming angrily a dissonant song

sleet
turns to hail

tapping cracked clam shells
and palm-size stones.
hail like icy gnats nipping my cheek
but when I face the wind and waves,
lean in a little, the nip feels fine.

hail
turns to snow

snow kisses my eyes blind
quenches my brazen tongue
and a solemn quiet unfolds

like water the moment it boils
quiet
as when the act of love is done
quiet
as when my chattering mind
slouches into sleep.