We’re on our way to the pizza
place when I glance up to confront
the sun-stroked cheek of a full moon,
dancing naked with blowsy abandon.
Across the cratered disc, my vision
leaps, the night sky fresh-scoured
of all but sneaky vagrant veils that
tease the starry eye into paying heed.
A thicker cloud dips a stratus hip,
cocks wispy fingers, first plays
coquette, then hardened hussy. Moon
pays no mind to the ragged pace,
puts on her pretty face, climbs
higher while down the street,
a teenage crew spreads red sauce
on white dough and children race
each other to the game room, lost
to the lure of the hunter’s leggy run
to outdistance the dark vapor skirts
of pursuit, Diana outrunning Orion,
while I stand in the parking lot, turn
away from oven smells, bespelled by
the bright and winking eye, the sinuous
slide of tonight’s moonlight seduction.
