Inching

Moments like this flicker
Like a candle at the seashore.
We did not know how long it would last.

There they were: embraced,
Moving side to side
On the embankment
That overlooks the interstate.

The long grass tickled my mother's knees;
My father's cheek grew red.

They spoke in whispers
That the sweeping clouds enveloped
And stole away from us.

Their quiet moment:
Disturbed only by the
Gaze of two small daughters
As we got closer.

We were inching,
Climbing higher up the hill
To get a better look.