Babymoon Over Blackened Bay

       		while there’s still time,
 
we drive to the coast, ascend
             the peak at the edge, taste
the salted depth of the wind.
 
        	        	          we linger
 
over coffee and cannoli
              in a restaurant by the sea,     
 
                                     	               drift
 
across the parking lot to the pier,
              where a rusted moon bobs over
the black expanse of the bay,
              sea lions’ wails search the dark,
the glittering edges of some creature
              glide and disappear.
 
                    	        	halfway there—
 
we’ve seen your glowing outline,
watched you gulp and flutter
against the black.
 
        		                still far from us
 
yet real
 
               enough
 
                            to shudder
 
 
 	       at what losing you would mean.