shot glass
title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Caren Stuart


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Eventide

When surfing on swirls of purple/gray cloud swell,
a round, white moonbloom blossoms
and a large copper coin of sun slips down
the far edge of a ribbon of turquoise sky
and the dark blue chalk line of distant horizon
blurs as the copper coin melts and spreads
a puddle of embers, burnt siennas, rust reds
and smudges the seam joining ocean and sky,
there's magic here in these moments when
from somewhere within a churning yearning
waves rise up and furl, unfurl and I
am small but I rise
up and furl,
unfurl, unfurl.