marine layer

In the sun,  

right now - rising
somewhere. Setting

somewhere else,

too - a glow of rose-gold 

is hung, suspended in straps
and bolts of cirrus and stratus clouds, 

over the ocean on a cool blanket
of wind and spray: a hammock

for us, or for anyone else. There,

Always,
even on the cloudiest days
- rise higher! Up and away
it awaits, stretched from each yesterday

to every today, hung still
in every dusky morning,
and as each night dawns,
swung,
flung,
held

in the restless,
motionless thrill
of your sleeping form

in my aching arms.

Or
if not, then still:

a dream of someone,
asleep in a bed
of sun.