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On the Brink of Evening
by Kay Kidde
Everyone had quit the beach for home. You,
Sunbrothers, swimmers. Those who read.
One kid has left his board that lies inert
Just past this reaching glide of surf.
In the west, clouds slowly turn to passion.
A segull contemplates the gone white waves
The lifts off, leaving me alone.
There is a spill of sun, a glory on the sea,
That runs along this staying sand,
As it funnels down the shore
And the light is firing crystals on the dunes
All the distance long.
Some heat stays the ebbing afternoon,
A memory of day.
I am made mellow as
The whole sky now goes ardent, dying.
And yet
I miss the antic boy who manned that board
But, more, I miss you who forgot the towel
That lies here vacant next to mine.