Shrouded in the half-light 
of a crow-dusk sky and ruby streetlamp blur 
I observe hidden lovers 
tango in mid-air 
wings outstretched ready to hold the earth  
                                   in their lust-love 

time is stolen by the passion of the near-night  
                          and silent melody of the harp-moon 

until the crackle of burnt leaf-beacons
warns of a stoat’s prying eyes
               
         endangered by discovery
         the paramours bow into the shadows 
leaving only the gentlest echo of their romance 
                                                           
                                                                           to the dark.