Wind and current wrinkle the surface,
motionless as the cracked skin of a
parched desert.

We bank and catch the full fire
of the setting sun and the Pacific transforms
into the hide of a golden elephant.

Another turn loses the light and the water is
pachyderm gray capped with tufts of white.

The ground and its toy houses are almost in
reach as we descend like a silver bird returning
to the green canopy of home.