We danced
in the fields
at a time
of flowing honey
with smiles that felt
like pedigree.
There was the light
of the Sun
and the greenness
of a mountainside
and in your hand
my own.
And when we came
to the end
and watched the dying
of the grasses
and the shedding
of the leaves
we lay together
before the fire
and felt the skin
of the other
and sometimes
we danced.