Sunset on West Cliff
Sitting at Clara’s,
the sounds of the shore gently wash away
the cobwebs of my mind.
Piping hot coffee sipped from a paper cup.
The evening sun fades
as my mind journeys with the sea,
and the sky.
Shape shifting clouds line up in rows,
sand dunes in the sky, or a groundsman’s
proudly mown lawn, stripes of blue and white,
a Merry-Go-Round, Big Top
or a barber’s shop pole.
Reflected light on the beach below,
rippled sands, a farmer’s furrowed field
perfectly formed by the ebb and flow.
Spotlight beams search along the cliff
for an earthly landing place or
maybe a body, lost or found.
Another glance and the searchlight’s off,
a cloud gives birth to the setting sun, a
silently powerful orange ball born on the horizon
Space Hopper, strange celestial creature
from a world beyond my own.