Seven O'Clock

On the shore of the bay
the sun hangs in the sky
Glittering off the small waves
that lap onto the sands
Washing up
against my feet
(I don't wear shoes in the summer)
The sun still hangs there
The sky
purple and pink
The water
yellow and blue
Like a sheet of silk
Stretched between the shores
It is seven o'clock
And I have just waken
To see this spectable
The sun gleaming in my eyes
Making them, too,
like the sky and water before me
as a tear runs down my cheek
For I do not know -
is it dusk or dawn?

© 1992, Robinson Publications, all rights reserved