At dusk,
obstinate tangerine rays,
dash away from the sun
like mischievous children,
not yet ready to end their play.
Weaving around white-gray clouds,
streaks of pink and red
dangle in the air,
swirls of vibrant color    
in stark contrast
against a fading blue-canvas sky.
Unable to ignore the persistent tug of the daystar,
fiery tails skip one last time
over sandy shores and chase one another,
to the edge of the horizon,
before slipping out of sight
beneath evening’s dark blanket.
The last golden bits of light,
the remains of the day,
lay scattered, like abandoned toys
across the surface of the friendly sea.
With one powerful wave goodbye,
they are tossed high into the heavens,
lonely beacons, glowing
throughout the long night.
The distant flickers,
serve as a reminder,
a cry to the mother-sun,
to rise up in the morning
and reclaim them as her own.