The sun is still high above and beyond the grass-toped dunes,
but it is sinking throughout each breath,
sighing away its light to the waking night.
Where the moist slope meets the endless sea’s white jaws,
here the shaded sand awaits its foaming fate,
its part in this life,
while the narrowing swath of twilight-lit beach higher up glows
from endless sight to endless sight,
the shadows crawling up from the grooves and prints and the crumbled walls of
kingless castles long forgotten by their once studious, now carefree masters.
There are no longer any boom boxes blasting here.
There are no kites flapping in the sticky wind.
No lifeguard whistles.
No idle chatter nor children’s laughter.
Now there is just the breaking roar,
the groping slosh,
the receding sizzle of cooling mist.
Now there’s just a chilly breeze
and the distant call of some tired gulls
gleaming toward the warmer sky.
That sky glows as it fades.
The sun illuminates the same cotton clouds over warmer fields.
For a moment, now, here, they are in highlighted bloom,
the light’s last stand.
Soon they will be just silvery wisps by the stony moon’s guiding light.
Or else just blackness until the waking dawn.
This is our sunset, here, for now.
Forever someone’s sunset. Forever someone’s sunrise.