Mediterranean nights

Mediterranean nights

When ocean’s mist shudders against
the horizon, we lie like lions on
the sand--our hands warm in the view
of tomorrow.

Down beside the crag, out past the blue,
the gulls move within dreams of living
and luminosity, chest to softened chest
like lovers before a first kiss.

An alternate world, as if we they were
held together through a string of clouds,
suspended like a heart in love or the scent
of infant rainbows after a gentle rain.

Gone to imminent dusk are colors, left
are silhouettes that seem to stutter
in the tide, then settle brilliant
in the light of the new moon.

In the midst of it all, nothing else
stirs; there are no harsh winds to falter
our view. And nothing shatters the silence,
when the petals we pluck descend.