Sunset
It is late afternoon.
The bay stretches out before me,
beautiful in its simplicity.
The bright orange sun
paints a trail of gold-tipped bronze
to the water at my feet.
It is very still.
I can hear the murmur of the fishermen,
farther down the dock,
their fishing almost done;
the cry of sea birds;
the somber clang of the bouhy bell.
The sky changes color little by little.
From a lovely light blue,
it deepens gradually.
The land at the horizon seems
like a watercolor; muted,
shrouded in mist.
The sky is banded with
violets and pinks.
The sun itself, shimmering, alters.
It is a deep red circle
sinking toward its rest.
Slow, so slowly, it lowers
nearer to the water.
So slowly, it is drawn down
On its inevitable journey
Now the time passes more quickly;
faster now -
closer -
Ahh.
Without a whisper,
it sinks into the bay.
You can almost hear the hiss.