An afternoon with you
A radio, not listen too,
though it plays like a wind up toy.
The cherry blossom falls to the floor
and browns by the the end of the day.
Fields roll away in their carpet greens and squares of yellow.
I slept for a while,
your head under my arm.
Side by side.
Nothing disturbed us all afternoon.
The wine was drunk,
and blushes saved
by thorn bushes and giggles.
On the downing, the folding sun,
as night came from behind,
we watched the last light's tail.
Home awaited us.
©Christopher Hopkins 2016