FIRST WARM NIGHT

 come, let us sleep with windows wide tonight
a salty breeze like silk upon the skin
the birds will wake us early, and the dog
will want her walk and breakfast–come to bed
my love, and dream of sippng wine beneath
the flowering island trees. This narrow slice

 of year is precious, fleeting, when the light
is waxing, weather warming, when the tinny
chill of winter blurs to distant fog
in memory. Come, marvel now instead
at silvered waves and sand, the moon bequeathing
magic to the midnight seashore. Nice

 to sleep on such a night, beside my one
and only love, when workday’s tasks are done.

 Larry Wilson