gpt
Where Winter Meets the Tide
A ribbon of gold between two worlds,
where winter’s hush and ocean swirls
embrace but never intertwine—
a fleeting path, a fragile line.
One side whispers frozen sleep,
a hush of snow, so still, so deep.
The other roars with restless waves,
the song of time, the voice of days.
And in between, a lone soul stands,
footprints fading in the sands.
A moment held, then carried wide—
a wanderer where worlds collide.
grok2
