Sunlight’s amber coverage,
rippling in hand with the sea,
retreated beneath the shadow
of day’s rupture.

The swathes of darkness cast
across its golden bolt, swelled
outward with the sensation
of wine spilt from a chalice.

A thickened red,
seeping into deepened water,
expanded in punctuated
pulsations.

Night hovered, a ghostly spectre,
above the sun; water; day.
The sea, alighting in recognition,
burnt raw its tumbling waves,

casting orange flames in its
reflection- its essence to
the ashes of day- to
receive the ivory colouring

of bone upon bone.
The sun surrendered,
and in the darkness
a small sound rung forth.

Regret threaded its being
with the intensity of a storm’s approach.
‘Adieu,’  a voice called, clear before the
chalice of the sea. ‘Until tomorrow.’