Across the bay

I look with eyes wide open

across the flat mirrored bay,

reflecting the manifest silence

of early evening

and the impending

loss of day.


The sun’s deep colours

of goodbye

watercolour the looking glass,

occasionally broken by

the daring intrusion

of a thoughtless bird

or the gentle ripple of a fish

peeking up to see

the artist at work.


I stand on the jetty

in transfixion,

a ready witness

to this most divine event.

And as I watch and wait

the colours change on the palette:

from yellows and oranges

invented by the sun

to deep hues of gold and brown

that conduct in the impending gloom.


The cool chill of evening

brings back my other self

from the meditation of

scene and colour,

and now the darkness

unfurls like a black veil

to cover the scene

and wait for the risen sun

to send it off

and bring the

transient painting back again.