The Blue Hour

visions of atmosphere scattered illuminate faintly lid, the world is blear the latitude of nighttime sky flaunts itself on a silhouette pier evening gives up to nautical dusk sightings of air on skin are brusk still there’s a residue of eerie mystic hue covering wet rocks lighthouses through and through deserted cityscapes queues of sea mews moments of magic making the time subdue moments of faraway mists tinged gold and blue