I grabbed her fawning hands to mine
and we danced on the dish of the moon
serenaded by a loon's rollicking tune
that could not keep up with
our loud passion cries echoing
hill to hill
back and forth in and out
crescendoing into ecstatic SHOUTS
easing
us
finally
to love's little death, nearly out of breath
as we watched the jokey sun rising in the west
and how our tired kisses were flyng off our lips
into the clownish banditry of the wind's harsh riffs