BROACHED

Frozen fingers
Stamping feet.
Half an hour of shuffling in the gloom of dawn.
To a chorus of screeches from the gulls.
Sun broached the horizon.
The sky flared pink either side.
Hidden behind a swirl of cloud.
Wet sand reflected the drama.
Gulls raced across the beach heading out to sea.
Sunrise on a new day.

Lots to do today
Everyone knows it's only
three sleeps to go.