The Long Embrace of a Dying Day

Mango sun hovers
just over an infinite sea,
sleepy with evening, losing loft
with each passing swell.
Tiny breakers
and a torrent of shining rocks
wear the late light
like heavy silk.
The sand is firm and damp.
Spring paints the cliffs
with wildflowers,
thick as pigeons.

— 2010, from Poems