You and me and the river made three,
A summer’s baptism under moonlight:
I’ve never forget that August night.

Alone and naked, yet cloaked were we,
Cloaked by a blanket of ink-and-gold night;
You and me and the river made three.

Away from the shame that judging eyes see,
And away from the puritan’s prudish fright
Of what we might do on that starry gold night,
You and me and the river made three.

Written 5/13/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.