A California Current Sunset

The evening clouds tear shreds from bright sun’s heart.    
The cormorants leap mean from their stone hides    
And pierce the warhorse waves to steal their fish.    
   
An icy fog infects my soul with loss;    
The day, the time, a life of half felt peace.    
Where is the moon, where is the eye of death?    
   
I seek your side, my blood to warm your bed,    
To move my hands within your tempest sea,    
To let your bony fingers test my throat.    
   
I’m left with howl and raptors’ hungry cries,    
In groves of mute and broken cypress trees,    
Suspended in the wind of fallen stars.