Big Orange Moon

The first big moon to stop me in my tracks

to open my mouth in a reflexive "oh"

hung inches over a Seattle skyline.

Looking east towards the city on a clear October night

from an island in the sound

The sky just shy of pure darkness.

It was the darkest navy you thought was black,

until seen in bright daylight

The moon, it glowed.

It was the sweetest, ripest

cantaloupe you had ever cut into.

Not the pale, chunky fellows

of the breakfast buffet...

But the bright, orange flesh

of a sweet netted melon, nearly overripe.

Juices intoxicating as they drip down your chin.

The water lapped against the rocks

The choppy dark of the Sound envious of the moon.

The tide and wind denying a stillness

upon which the moon might reflect.

Blueberries and Rain in Glacier Bay

We clung to the alder.

Out on the narrow ledge.

Rain fell in big drops.

As it had for days.

Each drop paused on a leaf.

Content to sit undisturbed.

Clad in colored slickers.

We disrupt.

Chasing ripe blueberries.

Hanging over the water.

Tantalizing.

Almost out of reach.

Tropically colored blue-green water.

Opaque with fine glacial till.

Inviting. Deceptive. Cold.

Our hearts beat hard in our chests.

Not for the exertion.

For the thrill.

Below us bone chilling blue.

Above us steep rock.

Small ledges with encroaching bushes.

Alder and blueberry.

Poaching berries from bears.

No planning had preceded the folly.

Hands occupied in clutching branches.

Left only mouths to harvest.

Tugging at the berries with our lips.

Each blue orb savored.

Washed down with raindrops.

Urgency. 

Nervous laughter.

Impish gins. 

Looking out for beasts.

Aroused beauties clinging to ledges.

Delighting in the dare.

Cool Gray

The sky is gray. 

A fall breeze pushes the gray at me. 

Cool and penetrating. 

It slips under the edge of my sweater.

Goose bumps on skin that is unintentionally bare.

A small shiver ascends.

Ending in a tight crescendo as my arms press 

Into my body. 

Creating momentary warmth.