Salt Water and Dirt Road

Goodbye, wavering gaze of the dying sun.
A hard day's work is no fun.
You are always so impatient and eager to hide
behind the condescending sea and sky.
Shall I ask why?
But please come back tomorrow
and peek between the blue mountains
or break through my frameless window.
Make the curtains glow, and set my bed on fire.
Wake my ire, my satire, and my life's desire.
For I have traveled south
to gratify this greedy mouth.
Goodbye, warm spotlight.
You will be remembered tonight
as I pray that I could stay upright and polite
or refine my insights,
or just safely reach home and sleep tight.
In this room so fancy and neat,
built on the place
where salt water and dirt road meet.