From the dock he watches sailboats
cruising the horizon,
silhouettes in the gloaming,
how she embraced the glorious
colors of sunset on the water,
how she wandered alone,
with only a her camera at her side,
and captured the quiet jubilation
of the sun slowly melting into the ocean.
He stands alone, just as she did,
waiting for the hiss and sizzle
that it seems only she could hear;
he hears only the lapping waves
against salted pylons
and seagulls cawing regret at day’s end.
It’s a song he knows too well,
but can’t stop its playing
anymore than he can keep the sun from setting.
~Elise Skidmore ©2017