In the Adirondack Clouds

Two silver manes
regard a babbling brook.

She reaches into his lap,
with an arthritic liver-spotted claw,

circling his hardness
with an okay sign,

feeling him grow as she pumps him,
two fingers juggling his balls,

as she remembers
his insatiable mouth between her legs.

his lips squeezing her bud,
his hands mauling her breasts,

while her cunt devoured his face,
her hands gripping his hair,

as she cried out in the mountain night,
her waters flowing over him

like the stream flowing down to the sea,
but not just yet.