Strawberries Under the Moon

Aurora borealis across a strangely late fall seeming cool June evening. Glowing arcs and rays dancing for the sky. The geomagnetic storm must be strong, to be so bright against the full moonlight. Yellow-green, blues are explained by scientists who don’t seem quite sure themselves. On a blanket in the back acre next to a ripening patch of strawberries. We eat them tenderly, with only a splash of Boones Farm to wash them off. I put my hand on the hand you put on my knee. Each of us vaguely but not definitely aware these were a few of the best moments of our lives.

Looking at the stars from Eugi’s Stellar Causerie

2 responses to “Strawberries Under the Moon”

  1. Brilliant writing. I was engrossed in your lovely lines so elegantly written and then got to the splash of Boones’s Farm and cracked up! I love this poem. Thanks for joining in.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Glad to be a part, thank you! There’s a place, time and season for Boone’s Farm wine.


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