We saw the strawberry moon
at eleven-fifteen
on the summer solstice shining
brighter than any full-moon
we had ever seen.
The dog was not by our side;
he’d gone to bed an hour
too soon;
he was not real keen
on staying up and howling
at the brightest strawberry
moon ever seen.
We held hands as we looked up
and thought the sad moon
smiled on us and our chocolate pup
who snored through
that summer solstice’s
biggest, brightest
strawberry moon.