Like time
And the surety
Of the ocean tides,
The solar heat
Fades to evening’s
Chilly air,
And the approaching
Night’s early dusk
Signifies the arrival
Of autumn months,
Noted by
Changeable skies
Of sun and rain,
From blue to grey
Then blue again,
Shadows cast long
As if leading the way.

The sea lies mill pond still
Reflecting like tinted glass,
The lull before
The inevitable storm.
In this, a coastal town,
The sea will crash
And hooligans dash
Hurling skiffs
From sea to dry land,
Disturbing
Moveable sands,
Carrying it
To winter retreats.
Dredged and churned,
The rattled seabed
Throws up plankton and urchin
On which fish will be fed.

Tomorrow the storm will subside,
Another day shall pass
Bringing unscheduled
Hues and shades,
Calm ocean
To crashing waves;
As daylight fades
And the line where sea meets sky
Becomes once again vague,
Painting hazy orange to red
To lilac reflections,
Seeping forward
From the new horizon.
Giving way to the song of gulls
The dying sound of windy squalls,
But, now, twilight blankets all around
In October tones as the dark night falls.

Copyright Marc Hawkins 2017