pointing at hermit crabs &
poking a sea anemone in the rock
bowls of sea water above the shore.
It's just, he loves talking about the moon--
and while, yes, it causes tides, in his imagination,
everything--an early summer,
the bright of yellow, the East wind,
the dance of leaves along the sidewalk--
and even our movements, together,
slightly apart, and even more closely together--
all the world, and every inch of our love
depends upon the moon.