Sunset

At the end of the long day, the sun drops hot and white on the horizon.  The light is blinding, yet my eyes are drawn into that fire.  I glance at the water to cool my eyes.  A round dark spot appears, then slowly fades.

Sunlight skips a line of gold across the shadowy water.  A moment later, the flare is gone.

Even before the evening cools, a breeze whips up, running a chill across bare arms.  The water stirs.

The deck is almost empty, but you and I stand shoulder to shoulder.  I drop my arms by my side and try to breathe deeply.  Then I turn my head away.

The boat rocks.  A wave laps up on its side.  The water is deep and dark.  Overhead the sky streaks orange and gold, and then glows in amber.

I stand beside the rail and watch a sailboat thread the thin line between the endless sea and the vast sky.