Archive for November 8, 2013

Mundane pleasures

We only spoke as reassurance
that the other was not sleeping,
or dead even, and how to tell the difference,
while around us all was dark, and silent
between the lighthouse beams above us.

We sat under a cobalt sky so far away
in time from any bold romantic thought,
yet there was silver in the moon, and it was huge.
I remember your reaching for my hand
after we heard a sudden owl’s oohoo.

Our feet were dangling over water
as we sat there on the landing,
all the universe around us
we felt sheltered pointing at the stars
and we watched a ship sail in the moonlight.

I won’t forget, such magic
was there in the air for both of us,
as we had slipped out of our houses,
that warm and silent summer night,
alone the two of us when we were five and six.

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