top of page

"A Sunset's Closing Gap"

Updated: 3 days ago

"A Sunset's Closing Gap"

5/2/24 - M.L. McGrail

Compressed by time and tide,

and a dimmed and mirrored light, 

a moment is caught in silence, 

in a moment, nearing night.    

Dennis, MA (Cape Cod) summer, 2022                    photo by Kristine Kazarian


Yet these are not moments, 

not endless when well seen. 

they pull us in deep, well-entranced within them,

and they strike sharp like a dream! 


It's a pull that has now opened, 

a weathered and feathering glimpse, 

of how sand stands its ground, with grace and a strength, 

as Earth's moon tightens the dance. 


There are oranges, stretched shadows, 

layered horizons, and wedges to see. 

Blues, of course, set the ceiling; 

purple wisps mixed between!


Yet, it's the darkening browns in the fore, at the front, 

that cast all focus into sight. 

An oasis of course, in the sands just below,

fighting a timeless, well-timed fight! 


The ridges, the runnels,

the flats and smooth bends, 

an ocean's tide deftly retreats, 

once more to return again!


Hidden, and ever present, 

life recoils, and softly submits. 

Anchoring down in a race it hopes it can win,

   odds of placement make a bet out of it.


This is one of nature's subtle slights of hand, 

a marine's illusionary trick, 

when coastal waters reverse their flow, in synch,

 with gravity's lawful grip.


A summons  sent, an evolutionary move,

 to shelter in place if on cue  

against forces life knows, brings deadly unknowns

 of an awakened, indifferent tow.


A scene so grand has revealed itself

  that our bodies must straighten in awe.

  A suspension of intimate thoughts of ourselves 

  erase our darkest, most secretive flaws.


Nearness seems far, a closeness further off 

an outward tide sculpts all it can shape

fears of mortality, of death, we hold so close,

now seem to be in great doubt.


Left are whispers of surf, and mists of salt air,

a stretch of ocean no longer gives call, 

Yet has become a lush scene, only an artist could dream, 

to put brush, to canvas, for all!


It’s this daily rhythm, this back and forth, 

that comes quick, then quickly goes, 

   reminds us how beauty can rise on her own,

and in time,

expand endless sights to behold. 


A final souvenir has been earned, by chance itself,

for nature's certain curtain must fall!

A vision etched for memories and dreams, A-HA!

A day's bond of play at the shore!




















 

 







  



 








 











15 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page