Diatoms
(tag poem topic -- walking along a pier — by PBFLCK@aol.com)

Walking along the pier alone,
stars bright in the blue-gold night
moon almost white at the horizon,
I mentally drift on the surface of the sea
like the diatoms, shining on every wave,
the smallest life, brightening what should be dark,
and I think, if the smallest life can shine so well,
shouldn't I, the larger, shine a little?
I walk to the end of the pier and become part
of the immense Universe for a little while,
and then I walk home, to shine.