Glad to step out into the pink of the young evening,
glad to see others engaging the
promise so apparent
of the suggestive smile of the
evening—
Glad to speak
with you,
it means so much that words need
the living breath
of lungs—
Oh, the most luscious and sweet among them
are born straight from the tongue—
The evening hints of kisses &
even more.
I should like to write in a book what words are for,
how they sing in the wild Moon glass
of this wine pink
evening—
Perhaps someone will step outside some years from now,
inspired by a word glanced upon, glad
& glad & glad,
and utter some such words as mine
that spring
straight
from the tongue.
.
August 2003