#49 Golden hour

Sunset — Leonid Afremov

The minutes before the sunset hits the sea

While my feet are on the warm sand

and you can already see the moon on the other side

I sit and think of a million things

Lukewarmly conducted by the wave flow

In a suspended state of gratitude

like holding a fragile string in time.

I couldn’t ask for more, all my senses fulfilled

no urgency, no questions, no dramas

just water and sunshine

slowly that million thoughts fades

seagulls leave like my cares and worries

and all I need is this, here and now

this golden hour

this suspended promise

this desire melted in orange light

and crystallized in white foam

I miss you, I do, It’s true

But right now Nature takes over

And secretly tells me that if I’m yours

I soon will be back to you.