Love in Laguna

We slip into afternoon
scattered light to sip
wine-soaked strawberries
beside bougainvillea
the color of Merlot;

Sometime around noon
we slather marmalade
thick with orange rine,
and whip eggs smooth
like creamy meringue;

We loll on hot sand
in private beach coves,
finding a hundred reasons
to touch skin kissed
by salty sea spray;

Late lovers, we stroll,
arms around each other
tightly along St. Ann's
asthe eight o'clock sun
infuses summer's sea;

Like spoons, we sleep
below an August moon,
while in the night sky
a droning plane
recalls September.