Beyond the transient horizon, there was a bright red trail,
Getting narrower, as the sun sinks and disappears into the sea
I hear the seagulls cry amid the light salty breeze & sky turning pale
While the shadows flow on the canvas of sand, they’ll never be the same way
They say you can never see the same sea twice
Each time it seems different – is it the water or is it me that has changed?
I long for an evening where I will no longer watch the trail disappear
Gone into nothing, replaced & forgotten, while the sun barely notices or cares..