The frogs croak and
the wind whips by.
It is a nice summer evening to spend
with you.
Sometimes we drive and
we do not go anywhere,
like the rest of the tired people-
running, running, running.
But for now the crickets chirp and
the music on the radio is quiet.
A white noise that is safe
to lose yourself in.
We are together,
in this moment,
and life has spared us time to
experience the universe,
and the wonder of being alive.
You weave your fingers through mine,
and while we do not slot together
quite like puzzle pieces,
it is comfortable.
For this pocket of time,
I have one hand interlaced with yours,
and my other hand steering the both of us
gently away from our worries.
for this pocket of time,
we simply exist.
life is too busy. We need to remind ourselves to run away to big highways surrounded by wheatfields sometimes.
