June Moon

Tonight the moon deserves
to rhyme with June:
your courtesan and hostess,

her tastes honed by the solstice,
she rashly, lavishly casts
all her grace and glow from cloud

to ground, her gentle giant appetites
unbound: a catholicity
of receptivity absorbs the sky

around her – everywhere her
treasure draws your eye:
there isn’t anything she wouldn’t do

for pleasure: she’d have you rue
whatever you won’t dare:
there is no grander measure

of a summer fare than she: look up
at her voluptuous pearled
transience and see.

.