An observation from a recent Friday night “gathering”

It happens when the heat rises and the kids want adventure.
It happens when there is a full moon, or when the stars are all out showering the heavens.
It happens near lakes when water cools the hot bodies and glides water side.
Then the pink panties are off and on the berm.

And in the morning, squeals and murmurs of voices high and low are but memory.
Loons are no longer hollering their ancient night songs.
The headlights on and off and on quickly scattered,
Then the pink panties on the berm remain the only witness.

~ a local poet who wishes to remain anonymous.