Sunrise , Sunset...
On and on they go,
You'd think there's no catch but there's one in between...
One happening between the starting point and the end point of the sun's journey of the prolonged exaggerated day...

That's a story for another day...
But I'll write about the day...
I'll write about the Sunset...
How the day ended and began... At the beach...
That's the catch.

The Sun had just took a dip in the Ocean,
Wave frequency lowered,
Smoky fog from the sea arising as though they'd just extinguished the flaming Sun...
Quite the beautiful tragedy...

But that's not the Sunset worth writing home to.

Sunset tastes , feels and looks different...
Sunset is a man...

Quite the strange occurrence of one who emerged out of nowhere in a moment of despair and the mesmerizing sight...

A breath of fresh air...
More like Pure Ocean Mist

So I'll go back in time,
And I'll definitely recall; That Sunset was actually Sunrise.

And I guess that's the catch...
A worthy wavy salt water catch between the Sun...

The man I call Sunset...
Where had he come from?
One would swear he'd just been sculpted by the Sun setting...
Perhaps a son of dawn borne from the Sun.
I must say... He's quite hot.

I've come to love the mysterious Sunsets...
Somewhat lost but...
He feels like home.
© Robyn Windsor