The sky now the correct gray–
sea-derived, the summer’s fires
gone out, the focus
turning slowly inward,
like a tide returning,
an impartial action,
attribute to it
whatever you’d like,
it won’t attach
and it won’t last
and that is some sort
of beautiful–
every night a blank page.
The gingko starts to shiver
OPTIONAL POETRY 
Really like this.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks!
LikeLike
This is amazingly written! Glad to have stumbled upon this post. It’s going to stay in my heart for quite some time now.
LikeLike
, tide renewal – love this poem
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person