~

the hunter's moon   as seen rising

full   white bright   from the hills east of half moon bay  

from the seat of colin's borrowed f-150

and love is in the air   though marketa's fire is banked   

would a puff of wind   strategically placed  

fan the flame   just enough   just enough please   

that we might see what burns   or what does not burn

and the radio laughably plays my girl

this moon   so anticipated   rich with portent   and marketa

hugging the door   gazing at something so miserably cold

laughing its vile laugh   while i shiver  

how dare her

later   as we are falling asleep   as if said in prayer

i hear   one day closer   as she pulls away   to her side of the bed

~