Sunset Seascape
T Tom Billsborough
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Evening's spectrum. As the night impends
The high violets and blues compress
The lower layers of green and yellow
To narrow streaks above the final flourishes
Of orange and red still radiating from the white disc,
Halved by the sea's horizon.
A lone black yacht sails in the centre ground
Its elongated shadow echoing towards me
Mottling the waves as they approach.
The colours reverse in muted echoes
Of the falling sky.
Upon this shore, I sing a plaintive song,
As Fate now huddled in the drowning light.
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