The turning of the light.
A hymn to a winter’s day.
Following the sun, on ’til dawn.
The sea answers to the call of the moon.
A convocation of the elements. For Merritt, a friend with eyes that gazed deeply.
Credit given where it is due.
Rest falls upon the river.
It is good to be here again.
In this place, there is no word for time.
The last notes fade.