First dusk on Orcas Island

Left side of my face bakes
in the sunshine, right side
is cooled by a salt breeze.
Apple-blossom wind lifts a
a lock of gray hair.
Still here, the old gal,
for one more loon-cry
spiralling up from the cove,
for a fleet of sea-otters
streaking wet and muscular
through bronze water, still
here, agog with wonder.