The bay

the sun stains the sky
a dark pink, scatters
shadows of waves
in winking black crescents
across the broad blue bay

fine black lines of
lacy trees
separate
sea from sky

a small island, its green barely discernible
in fading light, bears white birds,
resting like flowers in the trees

as our boat passes
one rises, opening its petals to
the final red of the sun

in that moment, when
the last hot brilliance slips
behind the curve of the earth,
the light shifts

a gentle clarity
suffuses all —
water, boat, birds —
with certainty