Watching No Sunset

.
alone in the middle of a crowd
just wandering about with no one to meet
and no one walking with,
--standing out like a child wrapped
in a neon traffic lights jacket because of it--
yet is passed by unnoticed by people
who only have mouths, ears, a camera, a celphone,
and some beans ready to pay for coffee or food and beers.

in the city port, they built a boulevard
she sits by the side of the ocean
near the entrance of the leisure park
and watches everyone going in and out
they are not as many as the waves
nor are they as placid or as tided
they come in various numbers
in groups that are more like the boats
that dock on the pier, some are small, some are big,
with many things or with a few passengers.

she is looking at the horizon:
this is where the sun rises every early morn
and we are all here late in the afternoon
we could not see the sun setting
but later we might capture the rise of the moon

discreetly pressing buttons
keying in a poem
the people beside her or the tourists in the complex
they have no idea what she wrote
but then come midnight when she reaches home
the memory of sitting by the city port
where she could not watch the sun come down and go
will be read by a hundred others
who have not even been alone
musing and writing a poem
watching no sunset by the seawall.