At Capitola Beach

When full Moon comes rising

over the eastward Bay

& the Esplanade’s nightclubs & restaurants fill

with clamorous people

amidst the blast of dance music on a hot Friday night,

but your desire is to get just beyond it, down the sidewalk,

along the beach, where the benches are quiet with quiet-talking

couples & close friends;

or, if you wish, go further, there, where the terrace

of a walkway of seawall is sheer-edged to the restlessness of rocking

of wave below

& the broad Moon lit water shines like silver

& you see the coastal lights sparkling round the curve of Bay

—Seacliff, Rio Del Mar, Seascape, La Selva, Pajaro Dunes—,

but south Seaside & Monterey & Pacific Grove you cannot see

for summer fog;

& the strung lit pearls that wrap round Zelda’s outside seating

look so inviting;

& further still, to the right, not far beyond, Capitola wharf you see,

its lamps of amber softness warm glowing in equanimity

along its length,

restaurant lights culminating,

& you see silhouettes of fishing boats cross the lunar way;

as you gather it all & all is here, in one sweep, compact & still,

& there is only the sonance of surf, cadenced & sweet

—such a ravishing evening in little Capitola-by-the-Sea—,

who would not take an opportunity such as this

to sit quietly with a date or lover,

& share with each other the heart’s whisper,

& perhaps touch & kiss as she & I did years ago,

with tall eucalyptus crowning the rising of cliff above you

& rhythm of rock tide & backwash gently lapping

& sloshing below,

with an occasional wake-up wave that hits hard,

to come splashing over the railing of seawall—

To sit quietly & kiss on a night like this,

what could be more exquisite?

And King Jupiter

now ascends the throne of coastal lights

regal in the numinosity of Moon’s fullness.

And comes right up the Light of the Goddess Herself

& does a scintillating dance on silver dazzling feet.

Capitola

August 1998