An east wind is blowing across the cove tonight-
the cool air perfumed with the scent of honeysuckle
and that lake water faintly fishy smell.
The half moon, hazy and pale, her light obscure
by the east wind and cedar boughs-
the night is filled with the sound
of the moon and the east wind.
Let’s take, for instance,
on one spring night.
Let’s say an April moon,
full and pink in her loveliness,
a moon so perfect it would be hard to forget.
And we will tuck that perfect memory
of that perfectly, pink full moon
and that one perfect spring night
into our knapsack
of perfect moments.
that one moon
(I think it was in April)
when we walked to the star strewn cove
to hear the plaintive songs
of the love sick loons
as they serenaded each other
under a pink April moon,
on a warm spring night.
It was perfect.
And we will remember.