This Full August Moon

A young man
eyes the hands
that fold beneath him
spellbound by the breath
of her consent.

A lone striped bass breaks

the swell of a mercury cool eddy
as dinner guests across town
raise a glass in compliment
to the chef.

A woman stands squarely
in the small hours
shuffling from counter to pantry
A hot rhubarb pie cools
on a warn kitchen table.
The newly blushed
slip out the side door
kissing full-mouthed
by the honeysuckle vine.

Sigh, you old dog
in contemplation behind
the flapping screen door.
See a car turn to enter the drive
and then on second thought
pull away.

These, this evening and next
before and certainly after we
in our infinite wisdom rise to say it is new.

-bellini