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West Bay

Updated: Jan 14, 2022

It is the last day of fall

and definitely winter.

The silence reveals

the immense shifting,

the vacillating energy

under this copper green drawbridge,

where eddies furrow a flowing dark matter

into strange wrinkles,

dredging up a past December’s star dust.

It’s high tide now,

when a lapping edge touches

the tangled synapses

of dormant buds, stiff on crinkled brambles.

In the muted evening skyline, holiday lights

encircling a lone tree placed on a pier

float and glisten in the eyes

of your otherwise taciturn being

reflecting and rebounding,

out to a horizon, once again

succumbing to the rotation of all things.

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