The blue sky stretches far across the tepid marshland.
A delicate amethyst which surrounds the crouching sun
signals every cloud to it’s place along the horizon.
She stands still, focused on the beauty of a days’ decay,
as a calm descends upon her with the weight of a falling star.
She has found her peace in the flushing quiet that has consumed her mind.
I envy the setting sun as it marvels her eyes.
For I have spent the eternity that is often young love
wishing that I might find it in rhyme.
Yet in this fleeting moment I graciously turn away.
All that really matters is that she’s found her eden
in the docksides’ fading day.