Thin,
Salt and pepper stubble,
Old
Leather boots,
Tanned faces
And darkened eyes
accustomed
To staring into the distance.
They talk of the weather
And
Gossip
About those not there;
Jennie,
She wasn’t looking too well on Monday,
Frankie,
Is he not late today?
Eddie,
One last pint.
Whirligig;
The only music is the wind
And the waves
Lapping on the pier.
Dr Rod’s Odd Blog (almondemotion) 
A sense of a hard life, lived stoically. A sense of a close-knit community. The whirligig pinpoints to a ‘T’ the vagaries of fickle air and sea that rule lives but bring a welcome quiet.
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