One More Moondance, My Love

Originally published in Clay Literary’s RAVEN: https://www.clayliterary.com/post/raven-issue-eight-09-06-2020

A cool October evening presented itself in front of us,
the full moon in the sky hovered above, and the tension
between us lent itself to lyrics that resonated to every

following Autumn. ‘Can I just have one more Moondance
with you, my love?’ you sang as we walked arm in arm. It
was our first song, my first song sung to me. And to this

day, the smile, the tone of your voice, the way you
captured me, still sends shivers right through me.
From the first taps of the piano to the trumpet blaring

three-quarters of the way through, it all sends me back
to you. I halt everything to remember your voice, your smile,
to be wrapped in a moment with you once again.

Our Song

Image credit: Max Dupain

Spinning the same song
that connected us
gets harder to hear.
Each verse cuts deeper
into what never was,
what could have been,
the longing to be near.

With my fingertips crossing your beard,
your fingers grazing my thighs,
those longing sleepless nights
I’ve waited to be alongside
the one that knew the depth
of my emotions,
facing eye to eye.

Sometimes it’s a choice song
so I don’t forget the closeness
of someone far away.
Sometimes it’s a random appearance,
stops me in my tracks
and nothing else
can stand in its way.