She watches him across the leafy expanse,
dapper elegance bedazzling her eyes.
Ah, that vermillion bowtie
pulsates in the afternoon sunlight
as his heart flutters.
She hums. He notices.
Daring dancers they chassé in mid-air,
needle-pointing fireworks against pale blue skies.
Then, thirsty, they drink,
sweet scarlet sage sustaining
their buzzing tête-à-tête.
The terrier and I sit on the backyard deck.
She harrumphs. They ignore her
to all but each other and
the dulcet nectar of
another Cinderella summer ball.
Jill Crainshaw is a professor at Wake Forest University School of Divinity. Her work has appeared in Star 82 Review, The New Verse News, Five Poetry Magazine, and Mused: The Bella Online Literary Review. She is a regular contributor to the Unfundamentalist Christians blog at Patheos.com.