The Full Corn Moon

Look up.
Be alert.
There's a full corn moon,
the moon that buys time,
keeps the place,
as we await
the autumnal equinox
and the real harvest moon.
That equinox balances
between day and night,
dividing itself equally,
portioning out sunshine and shadow,
presenting time with an exactness
far different from the nebulous hours
of the summer that precedes
the shift of season.

In the time
of that delicious season,
a hopeful lover
looked ahead to days
of slanting sunshine
and the warmth
of side-by-side bodies
on beach blankets,
of fingers stroking sunwarmed hands,
brushing glints of sand
from blackberry legs and arms.

In those lengthening days,
it seemed there would always be time.

Now, the corn moon rises
in air that bends with crispness
and begs for sweaters,
not swimsuits.

Perhaps by harvest moon's time
tonight's chill will seem familiar.
Perhaps that moon
will offer
an autumnal balm
to ease the pain
of summer's transition.