I love the country life,
in between the feral cats
and hawks.
Morning coffee March
I sip it with vanilla
cream and smile.
Last night I fell
asleep inside her,
safe and sound and
domesticated in her
tight wet walls.
We came together in
determined silence;
family in the next
room.
I love the country life;
the ponds and streams and
sun soaked meadows;
the wild asparagus and
gooseberries.
In her arms my spirit rests.
My tired wings
find a nest better
than the barn swallows,
stronger than the eagles.
I'm a brook trout
swimming through
her veins.
I'll chase my
tail in her Fallopian tubes and
make a home in her cervix.
I love the country life.
coon hounds and corn flowers,
coyotes yipping and
bobcats tiptoeing up on
shocked field mice.
Last night, after we died
a little in each other's arms,
I gently rubbed her
cheek and kissed her
eyelids, nose, and lips.
I breathed in deep the
smell of lavender, sex, and
home- the safest
fragrance I know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The country life, pure and natural. Beautiful poem