A Country Affair

Pumpkin, I will not forget
twilight on your skin.  You whisper, change shape
beneath my vines. Corn heads gossip
in the field, wind rasps
at the tattering stalks. 
Green beetle pretends not to hear. 

Magpie, you will keep the secret,
though you heckle among your clamoring kind
and the ground is thick with leavings.

A pungent burst of crushed raspberries
drizzles down the heifer's tongue. 
Grass snake and twig ooze together;
Yellow orbs fuse without blinking.

Above the scratching, pulling, skittering,
loosening, blooming,
the slow
and luminous moon
swoons behind her black fan.