Two eased from the sedan. A blanket, a brimming wicker basket. A pond filled with geese, the birds claiming the embankment. Water’s edge, he spun the blanket outward and The geese scattered, and the cloth descended in an almost perfect square. The valley’s familiar diversions, the white steeple a mile away, Copses scattered acres apart, poked above the low brush. Elbows propped in the afternoon heat Listening to the rustlings in the bramble Until the valley’s natural rhythms brought him sleep. Awakened to the rustling of paper, He watched her scatter bread crumbs, Circling the water with goslings in tow as they Nuzzled at the bits of dough, an odd parade Until a goose made chase, and the dithered fowl Marched her brood away And the woman laughed an undignified laugh in delight. Alone, glasses descended from his furrowed brow, An envelope withdrawn, Elegant script, long luxurious parchment perused and then Extended to her on her return. Her lined face turned away, skyward, The glorious heat warming, much preferred Above the chilling words. Together, they sat until the day had cooled And she wrapped herself in a thick sweater and Their shadows distorted as they relinquished the day, He guiding her in the gloaming before the beams of light Bounced unpredictably in the irregular road.