Sky Shore with No Line

Slow seas of pulse in my ears
Don’t need a shell to be heard.

I sense their surge while I wait
For night to end from this cliff.

The full moon sinks and turns gold,
Then red, then winks out of sight

Still in dark blue skies! The smoke
From fires is so thick, but smeared

In a smooth wave from the ground
Up to cream blue, not a cloud,

That, were it not for the moon’s
Show of slow fade in its groove,

There’d seem no edge to this haze.
Let’s see what the sun can do.