Fall ceremony like all those seasons past

the words were spoken 

not in secret but between sips of coffee 

by a few old men standing on the seawall

and as the words were murmured

the call and the reply              

and suddenly the visiting hordes were gone

like someone had poked a hole in the magic bucket

containing the visitors and their dollars

leaving the locals

those few who

couldn't get it together enough to travel

to drink their coffee

and watch the tide

coming or goin

one thing for sure 

it wasn't helping the surf

the water temps had dropped

and the wetsuit that had been left out overnight

just stares and challenges you to put it on.

"Come, climb into my cold embrace, like all those seasons past"