Choices

On a cold and windy day, we chose 

To walk beside the sea; we chose 

To walk inside the sound of waves, 

The bitter air, the salted cry of gulls, 

The rocks beneath our feet, the damp, 

And speak of love, that warms and shelters 

When it thrives but cuts when knives 

Like thoughtless words slice through 

And magnify the wind, the cold 

Until no jacket’s warm enough 

To protect us from the frost of loss; 

Until we choose — a conscious choice — 

To walk away, alone.