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Description
The paint on these
whitewashed walls
cracks and fades
away from this
ancient wooden shed.
Shreds flutter off
and land in the grass
surrounding this decay
and surrounding us.
Crickets sing
a summer lullabye
and the color green
provides the rhythm
for this balmy
evening love.
A patch of tall grass
all matted and flattened,
no order
or pattern.
Only mashed clover
and the sweet alfalfa
that made my pillow,
And you
were my blanket.
The dew clings to our skin
heartbeats faster,
fresh and sparkling.
And now we lie
awake on our backs,
arms folded behind heads.
Eyes searching,
hearts beating,
love alive,
as fireflies rise.

Description
The paint on these
whitewashed walls
cracks and fades
away from this
ancient wooden shed.
Shreds flutter off
and land in the grass
surrounding this decay
and surrounding us.
Crickets sing
a summer lullabye
and the color green
provides the rhythm
for this balmy
evening love.
A patch of tall grass
all matted and flattened,
no order
or pattern.
Only mashed clover
and the sweet alfalfa
that made my pillow,
And you
were my blanket.
The dew clings to our skin
heartbeats faster,
fresh and sparkling.
And now we lie
awake on our backs,
arms folded behind heads.
Eyes searching,
hearts beating,
love alive,
as fireflies rise.