Coney Island Sunset

I stroll along the boardwalk
pass the Wonder Wheel
rising high
           and going round
pass the Cyclone
grinding gears,
          clankity, slow rise,
fast fall,
               twists
                          and screams
                turns
                        and shouts,
drops,
              bumps
                            dips,
               rattles.

It’s getting late,
        light begins to fade.

The skeletal remains
        of the parachute drop
        looms,
        a stark silhouette
in the red rust glow
                          of twilight.

I walk to the end
      of Steeplechase Pier,
lookout upon the water
      between Sandy Hook
                and Breezy Point,
watch the ocean stretch
       to the horizon
and touch the edge
                         of infinity.