she squirms and daintily moves the angle of her legs from time to time
as intermittent sighs drift their way across this distance.
he waits in the sidelines of her vision as evening lumbers clubfooted towards moon time.
she longs for his advance
for his foot to turn an inch, any indication suggesting interest.
there are distractions:
the symphonies play
the stereos jive
the wind and the trees
stomp through the balcony and announce their selves.
he could be fishing in Wisconsin for all she knows,
dreaming of walleye an arm’s length or better,
yet every once in awhile her right side is bathed by his pensive gazing
as he watches her
as he just watches her.