Sunset’s apricot, yet the taste of salt
Not sweet on our tongues
Late afternoon fills our lungs
Earth’s windy fingers
Combs back our hair
As we meander along
The edge, at the border
Of land and sea, we rumble northward
Cont i n u o u s l y...........
While diamonds dance
Upon the wet
And sage scrub marches
Across the dry
Toward destinations
Unknown, we fly, our sound
Floats out across the waves
Expansive aquamarine
Movement, moments, fractions
Of day time captured
Weekend boaters turn to see
Where the sound is
Coming from, but
We are just a blue speck
And we keep on riding
Seen, unseen, between routine