BRIGHTON SUNSET

I see horses galloping like saffron wind
Across the sunset prairie sky,
With manes and tails aflame with streams of fire;
Bright steeds of cumulus design,
White winged and wondrous,
Wrought of clouds and molten gold,
They draw the chariot of the Sun
Through violet canyons of the coral-cave sea
Where Neptune's treasures lie.

Warriors of godly mien upon these stallion wraiths
Appear to ride,
With cirrus cloaks embroidered by each shaft of light
Full billowing behind curved sunglanced swords,
Their prancing wake paints mackerel patterns
In the tide.

Then suddenly, from far away,
Of dark descent -
Wild storms like cohorts form to chase them;
Dense, then tenuous, swiftly peppering the sky,
They surge from nowhere, turning on a second's arc
As one -
This millionfold mind - myriads of starlings sweep
In a blizzard of oil-slick wings,
Tempering the rose gold petals of the air;
They spiral, locust like, then land
To drape like tiny jet-black beads on cobweb strings.

As evening's ritual is unfurled they dive and swirl again,
Then sieve through a fretwork of dereliction -
Dark streamers dancing
With the ghosts of the West Pier ....
Once a proud and princely pleasure ground
Whose days have rusted all away
To become atoms of seaside memories.

The wind lies down along the beach
As crimson slowly prisms to purple
Then through indigo to black;
Soft shadows sigh across the haunted sea ....
Then darkly rise
Velveting the vaulted vesper Heaven
Where only Goddesses may linger, scattering their jewels
Among the aeon-counting stars.