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Our Haystack

Stubble field
husks in the air
dry summer scents

poplar trees along the ditch
our haystack at the end
inside, out of sight

our cave
pulled and pushed
in the long yellow grass

I dream that I am with you
lying there, naked
like newborn animals

that's all
nothing else matters
we may die

that's our secret
mum doesn't understand
she is afraid
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Collection 'Eyes lips chest and belly'
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4/14/2021 3:18:53 AM # 1.0.0.559