Dan and Emily

She squirms and daintily moves
the angle of her legs from time to time,
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.

But there are distractions:

the symphonies play
the stereos jive
and outside
the wind and the trees
the lightning
the hail
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 a while
her right side is bathed by his pensive gazing
as he watches her
as he just watches her.