“At Certain Walks by the Marshes”

The crickets rub their nocturnal song like a Mozart’s
Concerto tuning in—
The rendering is dampened in midnight,
While the stars play the cymbals with silver pristine….

She is the sunset hovering the marsh, swirling around
The seaweed with divinity’s light,
While raspberry parfait lops across the evening demise
Like a water color masterpiece…

And I sit under the magic wondering if
My feet could touch a more perfect heaven than
This shadow of beauty’s mien;
Wet, tangled and swaddling me in Mary’s
Embrace—

And I,
Her centerpiece!