Stage and Set

The sun goes down, a theatrical exit; it leaves orange rivers on shimmering roads. Turns black birds blacker. Cypress turn to grey ghosts alone now in their shredded wedding dresses. An egret rows across a shadowed creek silent wings beat a last trailing light, fish dart deep, drenched now in a downing moonlight. We take a walk over to a small jetty holding hands like teenagers. Her newly bought ring digs into my finger. I imagine her essence under my tongue the salty-sweetness of her sultry presence. Both of us look into a light none can see, only we are locked into this intimate love-play, we and a million others who share the same stage and set, while this discreetly late evening bows low to our star-struck eyes.