Beneath the starry sky he sits,
Perched atop the rock, overlooking the sea,
Watching the sun go down in a blaze of orange,
Trying to make sense of it all, how it fits.

Winds ruffle his pages as he writes,
One goes missing, ephemeral he thinks, like her,
A glimpse stolen, as bright as the moon, now up,
Another muse, another beautiful night…