Wisely, you bundled against the cold.
But summer found you on the shore,
wool scarf wound round and round
and on your head, some bad hat
to hold in the ancient ideas.
It’s hard to build castles
with your mittens full of sand.
The eternal sound of the tide
loud in your shell-shaped ear.
Salt water floods your boots,
and below the swell
sharks circle your red parka.