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| South Venice Beach |
Let evening come, the long orange dusk, let it come,
the darkening cloud stretching out across the peninsula,
the cooling air, the emptying beach, let it come,
night gathering in the pockets of the trampled slopes
going down to the water's edge where sanderlings fly
neck-and-neck with their shadows, let it come.
I spread my towel on the warm sand,
the long empty sand of your absence,
to welcome the stasis of aging, and i listen
to the recitation of the sea: Let evening come.
—following Jane Kenyon's lead
