Coastal North Carolina at sunset,
is like an upside down bowl, a colorful dome resting
over the hard surface
of roads and highways, cold earth.
The lip of the bowl is dusty
pink, a cliché rose color.
the bottom of the bowl is deep
blue, like the Pacific ocean.
Between the pink and the blue there are layers
Up from the pink are thin
almost indecipherable colors:
purple, orange, red, gold.
The blue covers most of the bowl,
ocean blue, turquoise, baby blue, cerulean.
Hues of Blues.
The sun has a tendency to shine red
setting the top half of the pine trees on fire.
There is a random star, perhaps a sliver of moon.


After the sun sets
and the sky is newly dark.
The crisp air makes things too vivid
surreal
The sky goes beyond dark.
It’s a sucking black.
Fading flickers of wannabe stars sputter and die
street lights illuminate everything but
at the same time nothing, soft colors.
Noise is amplified,
Car doors slam and echo
A sigh is heard by the universe.
The chill is deafening, numbing
Freezes up your heart, keeps it still for a moment.


In early morning before the sun rises
before it looks like there will ever be a sun again.
After the sucking black
has relaxed into a state of comfort.
The stars come out.
Too many, blinking on and off.
Then there is the thumbnail of moon
The hiding shy moon, just over the pine trees.


This is my poetry for North Carolina,
sky bowls and moon nails.
This is what I write for you,
my new home, my South by the sea.

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