Whale at Twilight
The sea is enormous, but calm with evening and sunset,
rearranging its islands for the night, changing its own blues,
smoothing itself against the rocks, without playfulness, without thought.
No stars are out, only sea birds flying to distant reefs.
No vessels intrude, no lobstermen haul their pots.
Only somewhere out towards the horizon a thin column of water appears
and disappears again, and then rises once more,
tranquil as a fountain in a garden where no wind blows.
~ Elizabeth Coatsworth
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:: this post is part of the Friday Poetry roundup hosted by Sara Reinhard.