A night of raindrops
by Denise La Neve

where waves pound sidewalks,
more an exultation than a lament,
as my keys drop into the dark puddle,
retrieved by your piano fingers.

Was it then that the clouds parted
and lunar light flitted across your grey eyes—
the soulful power that drew me in—
             or did that happen later?

This lead to conversation
             that lead to
                           dinner that lead to…
knowledge.

When columbine beckons hummingbirds
or crickets' symphonies invite a tango—
so too do your afterwork-Monday sighs
and my tear-jerking-romance sobs.

The soft brush-like sweep
before a passionate embrace;
kisses are what bind us,
and like jasmine,
I was bewitched by moonlight.



 

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