The Bay

At the end of the day

night drifts across the 

the molten sky and the 

colours of the sun’s last 

rays give a nod to the

moon’s solemn light.


And here the drowse 

of the working day takes

hold as tired eyes look

out thoughtless 

across the golden 

shadows on the bay,

and the last birds flutter 

home on their way to the 

perch for night’s silent sleep. 


Within the dark cold deep

of the bay nothing stirs, 

not even the breeze above 

or the fish beneath that wait 

for the light of morning’s 

greeting once more displayed.


Then nightfall’s black sheet 

takes the scene away, as a 

cloud floats aimless across 

the moon’s face and the gaze 

is into blackness as a 

strange potent comfort at 

the end of the day.