For Jane and Cath
After the flurry of motorway and ferry,
cricket chirps dopplered as we passed
and green lily pads lacquered a pond
by a ruined farm;
after the fizz of arrival and fret over food,
red wine dyed gums and tongues woad blue
and the harvest moon was a ripe apricot
over the house;
after, a bonfire frothed with sparks and we lay
on our backs on the lawn, then looked up
and giddily wondered why so many stars
slid across the night sky.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Sharon Phillips
would be pleased to hear them.