Adrift at a midsummer revel, its bonfire and
cheer, full moon clearing the chaparral ridge,
you’re aware how often they’ve come
out of the dark in their promise and need,
like headlights winding up the valley – nothing,
bright flare at a curve, then nothing.

You were devoted to hearth and union –
ancient role, to anneal you as a man.
Still, when they breathed, Oh you –
the balsam of fresh hair close enough
to taste the neck’s salt-sweet beneath –
a drowsing boy turned toward the heat.

Now, here again: light steps nearing
in shadow, a quiet deepened by crickets
thrilling the field – quiet so taut
that a touch, light on the arm, rings you 
up and down, a chime, and you’re invited
by one who’s said yes without words
to cast with fate, a beckoning zodiac
in a dream that wants you never to wake –
adored forever, love without limits at last.