Little Rice Grains of Ice

Little rice grains of ice

The blizzard off the beach
is punishment dealt out of spite
in the frozen fury.
The droplets are accomplices
of the movement and
they stick to my reddened face.
It isn't celebrity,
it's a sense of belonging.
The open weather is a seal of salt,
it marks the boundaries of the sea
and warns the tourists
that they are only passing through.