So much depended on that eager
Moment, that outdoor moonshine time.
A picnic basket held limes
And wine and the thickest Florida
Prime rib. No pie, no cake.
The man and lady were shaking
Cutely like kettles, touching their
Elbows, tilting their heads.
They were gentle people with calm
Ideas, lovers of shooting stars.
The red wine, the green limes, the
Noises of the night echoing like gongs
On trees, gongs on trees, gongs on trees.