#940-Deserted
26/02/2020
Early autumn.
Quiet,
Breezy days.
Empty beaches.
Deserted seaside towns,
Preparing to hibernate.
Strange,
How the solitude,
Feels lonely.
It’s temporal.
Every second.
Seasons will pass,
Warmth and crowds,
Will re-appear.
And loneliness,
Will gently wane.
Again.
