Night Moves

She stood there in the fading orange yellow light

turquoise bikini in a setting summer field

dressed in water as she watched

the young man watch her,

that certain age when a girl knows

she’s working on the moves to capture

the joy of a young mans mind and soul

as she ducks under before surfacing

to seek his eye once more.

I had been there once so very long ago,

yet not as practiced in my shy girl routine

which was ingrained and boys

were merely a passing thought out of reach.

She smiles and looks away as the yellow slips lower

and the crowd on the jetty

seemingly like camels in a desert background

stand and look the other way at the show

while a young girl turns and walks beyond the waves

to the waiting shore beyond

without a backward glance

grabbing a towel around her slender growing frame

and disappears into the night

moving without a sound

as he watches her slip between trees

vanishing beyond view

and the sun too bids adieu

to the critics who gave a glowing review

of the now ended show

and perhaps a boy now dreams this night

of a pretty blue two pieced girl with long brown hair

and curves that work the night moves

into a memory.