I was blue at dawn, low and heavy, a longing tide-
crawling without purpose towards the most obvious
shoreline, turning over the gritty waters with
the brittle cracks of my hide
just to crash into the sand
and be thrown back.
But I am crimson at high tide, sweet and dancing, a mesmeric wine-
swimming across the beds of tired tongues and gifting them life.
I am bursting and divine,
a deep oak blended beautifully
into the fruit of my perfume.
At twilight I will be mauve, moving and mystical, a bleeding sky-
fading into the red, the blue, the inevitable blackness, I am majestic
in my acceptance- a sole performer on an endless stage- giving my bows
to the surface of calmed wise waters as I descend into the night.
That will be my life.