Tropic Night

After the tropic rain he went into the night
listening to frogs and crickets, moonlit dragonflies
clacking palms and jacaranda
thinking of her

recalling nights they gave themselves to sensuality
excitement bestowed on one another
in a bed of dark pecan
visions of lips and fingertips
limbs perfect and trembling

after a blazing July day at the shore
with little worn over young sunburned bodies
in the air a magical essence
sweat, salt and Coppertone

loving each other with eyes wide
the delight of flesh, quickly bared
between half opened clothes
the intoxicating vision of it coming to rest
some sixties years later
while alone with his thoughts on a tropic night.

.

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photo is mine – behind my Florida home

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