© Joan Currie - The South San Francisco Bay
Plum-purple was the west; but spikes of light
Spear’d open lustrous gashes, crimson-white;
(Where the eye fix’d, fled the encrimsoning spot,
And, gathering, floated where the gaze was not;)
And through their parting lids there came and went
Keen glimpses of the inner firmament:
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
I basked in the glorious but fleeting sunset.
