GOTLAND'S DUSK

Gotland’s dusk, calm as a mirror

Gotland’s dusk, its spatter of lights 

rippling, murmuring 

Gotland’s dusk, once more luring one’s gaze 

toward the sky’s farthest edge

Gotland’s dusk, its homesick blush 

burnishing a shadowed sail

Gotland’s dusk, its grace hopelessly stunning

Gotland’s dusk belongs not to you

but to those kids cycling by,

helmeted, laughing

Gotland’s dusk belongs to that young woman on the bank, 

coat over her shoulders,

to generations of the dead

long at peace here

Gotland’s dusk a little chilly,

ebbing from the rocks

standing by the shore

Gotland’s dusk belongs not to you

but to those seabirds on the reefs

in the dimming air, their calls crisp and musical

Gotland’s dusk belongs to the ocean

swallowing in a moment

all that darkens

Gotland’s dusk, enough to shatter your life