Wandered the beach very late afternoon,
wanting to see the moon rise.
While waiting for that, studied the rest
and composed and poeticized.
Wind frothed the breakers, square-danced
with the gulls. Candy clouds punctuated
the sky. Not a glimpse of a glimmer of
lunar peculiar jiggled the night swath
descending. A shrug and a slump then
turned course westward, resigned to a
glitterless eve.
Moon face smiled, "You could have seen
the moon but you gave up too soon. I'll be
back in December but will you remember?"
