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