It’s almost face, a half-grin, a halo that glows bright shine on

A crooner’s eyes, the fedora not properly askew.
A Stranger in the Night, a karaoke Sinatra
schmoozes next to the starlet’s skirts. 

They twinkle in the fervor. He may never 
be twenty-one again, but he’s having 
a very good year.
Andy W. wears a marginal tux and he longs 
for his Moon River, longer than a mile-
crossing it in style.

But I prefer H. Carmichael’s Moonlight 
Serenade or Benny G.’s clarinet 
that croons to his version of Moon Glow. 

In the window the melody 
catches the morning sun and blinks back 
the moon’s glow is as smooth  

as cream cheese. 
And we dance in the crease 
of her half-opened eyes.

             It’s almost face, a half-grin, a halo bright and glowing.

A crooner’s eyes, the fedora not properly askew.
A Stranger in the Night, a karaoke Sinatra
schmoozes next to the starlet’s skirts. 

They twinkle in the fervor. He may never 
be twenty-one again, but he’s having 
a very good year.
Andy W. wears a marginal tux and he longs 
for his Moon River, longer than a mile-
crossing it in style.

But I prefer H. Carmichael’s Moonlight 
Serenade or Benny G.’s clarinet 
that croons to his version of Moon Glow. 

In the window the melody 
catches the morning sun and blinks back 
the moon’s glow is as smooth  

as cream cheese. 
And we dance in the crease 
of her half-opened eyes.