We drove onto Three-Mile Bridge as pelicans

sailed--jagged row--into a blaze of evening sky.
You begged to stop before magenta clouds
Reflecting down into water stretching from horizon to our feet and back
to palm-fringed hammocks lining more solid ground.

I turned from the drenched spectacle of light and shadow
trying to squeeze the enormity of your presence into my head,
Searching for identifiable boundaries that could circle this saturated

moment... only to have it explode in a gaudy flash of tropical birds.

Your arm casually drapes over my shoulder, pulling me back. You are ready for fireworks and the night has barely begun.