Last summer we often sat by the lemon rock looking out to sea without saying much to each other

Our exile only being broken by frequent swims and visits to the orange bar under the cool beach trees

These were our memorable days that have now been hidden by the rough  touch of the wet westerly winds

We still sit by the lemon rock but hold each other for extra warmth and comfort as our coats are heavy

The orange bar has been closed since the fall and now looks neglected in the thinning light of the pale winter sun