Weekend Wax

  

  We sat on the couch, after a day of shuffling and cuddling around the house, making love,watching television, making love—now, through the window a light up on the hill, beyond the trees and limning motion distracts us from our comedic plot. At first, we thought it must be a car, paused at the top of the road, picking up, or dropping off a neighbor in weekend revelry—but the light was too clear and too bright and too clean, and after a few moments still it did not recede— in fact, it was growing more luminescent. You got up, and looked more closely and then, the first sliver of lunar flesh appeared. For the next few minutes I watched her slowly sway across and over the horizon, the trees dancing in her glory and our eyes reflecting her rising delight.

  She was there with us, all weekend, just peeking in the window, over our shoulders, finally awing us, brazen and full frontal as we crested the town hill after washing our duds. She caught us unaware, our chattering immediately interrupted by exclamation. So close and full, a glowing ocherous orb fixing her impunitive gaze upon the land, only wanting to see and be a scene, then demurely taking cover behind gossamer and lace. A very great lady, full of grace.