Circumference About 11:00 P.M.

At an intersection with two ordinate cars, maybe
after a game, a drink, or done with hours at work,
the faces of the drivers remain unseen but, possibly
from a pull on a cigarette and a panel’s green display,
a faint flush in each and a slowing as they pass,

a momentary coalescence into phosphorescent
spheres of dimensions with gravities echoing
beyond those motions which slide them onward,

and while elsewhere, through hingeless side doors,
Jimmy and June on a Schwinn ride tandem, vivified
with legs beneath hips dancing through endless dark
streets-- pairs of hands holding tight and looking wide
eyed, trying to grasp the night’s spatter of fireflies.