Moon

In the early dawn hours,
As I looked to the sky
I saw the moon through the trees
Whispering good-bye.
Gently she faded from my sight
As the darkness waned
And the day waxed bright.

Light

I wish that I could paint the light
So you could see from far
How it fills the trees with morning stars
And changes leaves to amber
And back to green
More beautiful than I’ve ever seen before;
Yet causes me to remember
Another bright September
The kind of days I wish we’d share once more.

Take me on a Sunday trip.
I don’t care – anywhere you want to go.
Some place where the air is clean,
Where we can smell the flowers.
If within the hour it starts to rain
We’ll pretend
It’s still a sunny day.

Let’s get on a bus.
There’s a stop—a forest just a mile away.
We’ll find a tree to lie beneath,
A mighty oak to hide us.
If the clouds blow in again,
We’ll pretend
It’s still a sunny day.

• heat bubbles to the surface,
• heaving asphalt full and rounded
• like her breast–
• a gentle curve,
• like her hip–
• a graceful turn.
• no waist to hug.
• no shoulder to lean on.
• fingerprints pinch the road.
• handiwork of two wide tires.