They huddle, gathered in a line,
with hunched hills stooped behind.
What hardy souls to have placed roots here,
almost in the sea itself;
a place so subject to the whim of waves,
unrelenting on the days when whipped into a rage.
Arm in arm this little row of houses
perch on the very edge of land;
with windows that gaze levelly out to sea,
unblinking, unfazed, defiant.