In the backseat of my parents’ car
we sit and don’t talk about
the only thing on our mind.
Like my girlfriend, the harvest moon
rises above soon to be naked trees
yet is still covered by thin clouds
like a veil. Then as the porcelain
light finally shines through the sunroof,
she removes her bra, for the first time,
in the presence of my yearning.
(For this week’s Living Poetry prompt. Happy Harvest Moon!)
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
Bartholomew Barker, Poet 
sweet and a little spicy, I like it.
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Thank you, Nicole! It’s nice to recall those first spices.
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Funnily enough – I watched ‘Grease’ on the telly a couple of evenings ago…..
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I remember seeing it in the theaters with my girlfriend. I think we were making out in the back row…
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Very appropriate!
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I like how your poem flits between the natural grandeur of the harvest moon and intimate physical moments 🙌
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Thank you, Ange! As a young male, I considered breasts natural grandeur. Still do.
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So much understated innocence.
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Thank you, Violet! I was so young…
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Ah, the joys of first love/lust. :)
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At that age, there’s no difference. Thanks, LuAnne!
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So that’s where you get your moon fascination. ;) Good job
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My fascination with the moon pre-dates my other fascinations though that certainly reinforced it.
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