In late afternoon the Med is agitated
Shallow chaotic waves fret,
Foam in short strokes
And go nowhere.
Cold wind flings her water
At piers and pebbles
In lacy tatters
Ending in tears.
Boats buck and rock
Against their mooring.
The wind wails and moan
Through masts and rigging.
The day is ending in bleeding light.
Dark folds crease the mountain
Slice through rocks
Plunge into the sea
In faraway silence
While the world disappears.
unbuttoned or undone 
One curtain falls another is lifted 🙂
LikeLike
It’s just time, isnt it?
LikeLike
Absolutely. It’s always the “right time” somewhere
LikeLike
Sounds like the onset of winter to me, Emm, even though it’s a bit too early…
LikeLike
I’m riding this Med wave “While the world disappears” …utterly engulfed…
LikeLike
😦 Breathe my friend.
LikeLike
The end of day ushers in the brilliant and beautifully star lit sky. Without this break, having one endless day would make life unbearable, or so I think
LikeLike
Of course you are right… And what would happen to our circadian rhythm? I shudder to think!
🙂
LikeLike
The thought of it is alone scary!
LikeLike
Tu decris exactement, merveilleusement, ce qui passe.
Mais le monde reste la, neanmoins, cherie.
T’inquietes pas.
LikeLike
L’ephemere dans l’eternel, n’est-ce pas?
Tu comprends bien. Merci de tout coeur pour ta gentillesse.
LikeLike