Sun-Tide

The crescent moon hung at the
edge of sunset’s wake,
Its glow unshaken by the
stir of twilight, like a child whose
feet are nestled in the sand at the
edge of a surging sea.
The patterns of day traced by
boy fingers were washed away by a single
ripple of light’s extinguishing. Still,
the luminous keeper of night
singing the velvet lullaby
above the azure fumes of the day’s
remains, cradled the earth’s sky
in its dark starry arms
wading through the swell and
now the ebb of sunset’s great tide.
The calm of soft waves faded
into the horizon, replacing the
heaven fury that for a summer moment
ignited the ocean sky.