The rocky coast at close of day,
The gentle crash of waves, the spray
Which shimmers in the light
Of orange sun and early night.

The rushing wind and salty air
Of ocean depths; I know not where
The wind comes from, nor why it chose
This day to break from its repose.

The amber glow of dusk is gone.
It sank into the land beyond,
Where sky and sea meet endlessly,
Obscuring all reality.

~ poem by Ted Kisner