Dancing In The Grass

//dancing in the grass

On nights when the moon was full, DANCING IN THE GRASS, BY ELIZABETH
she used to dance in the grass SOUTHWOOD OCT.2'97 (C)
in her thin white-cotton nightie, (2nd place out of 750 Oct.12 '97)
take deep breaths of
cool night air, swing her hair,
wonder if she'd marry,
and watch the moon
rise over the bay.

Tonight a full golden moon
looms in the dark,
lays a rippling patina
across the bay.
Her thin, old-gold wedding
ring slips around on
her delicate hand.
Blue-glass stars sparkle
like her solitaire.

"In olden days parties were
held at the time of the full moon,"
she says, as they sit
on the patio, she,
like a Spanish dancer,
in a midnight-black,
crimson-flowered,
soft cashmere shawl,
brought by him from Russia,
"so guests could find
their way home."

"So it's the moon's fault
I'm here," he teased.
"Come, dance with me,
barefoot, in the grass,"
he said, "before we call it
a day."