The surf sings

a chilling
spine shivering silence
covers all sounds
like frost

unable to hear where he is
he strains his eyes
he tries to see
but there is mist

unable to see where he is
he stretches out his hands
hoping to touch
something, someone
but there is nothing
nothing at all

carefully placing his feet
he starts to walk
he walks on sand
he wades through silent surf

and suddenly
looking up into the sky
he hears the lone cry
of a lone bird
and he stops
and the mist lifts
the early sun
shimmers on the sand
and the surf
resumes her song