I am thinking of you just now
as I take to the woods
to meander among
the birch, aspen and maple,
their leaves a flurry, in
effortless silence.
I thought perhaps,
you too would enjoy this moment.
I’ll bring you to my spot,
a place where I once sat,
in the space
between a gravel lane
and sweeping scene
of growing greens.
To get to this place,
we’ll go at the end
of the day and travel a trough
to a solitary stop
and set ourselves aside.
We’ll go together
through the furrow
to the field of
crops renewed
to wait the winds
that brush our cheeks
tousle our hair.
In this hour of time
we’ll lower our heads
to lower our eyes
to the level of the field
as the wind arrives
in light puffs of
stuttered breath
from the exhaling sky.
In this place
you’ll be wedded,
as I have been
to the horizon
the sky
the wind
the birches
the green
fluttering leaves.
I want our imprints to remain
but it is not likely so,
the rain will fall
the leaves will drop;
crusting over the ground
the snow
will melt us away.
So, now I sit here
as you sit there
far from the north
far from the trough
far from the field
the crops long gone
it lays fallow
fallow,
Unswayed.
