Your tread is silent I said to Miriam as we walked along the winter beach

It is almost as if you are sea ghost emerging from the fragile mists 

Although she was listening to me Miriam kept her head bowed

The day was beautiful as late December days often are

With a sun so cold in the sky but so white in her illumination

Why do you keep your head bowed my gentle friend 

I am aware of the outstanding beauty of the day Clive

But my gaze will remain inwards as that is what I choose 

There is a deep beauty in the inward gaze as it inhibits temptation