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
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