Static heat and a veil of light across fields,
a too-bright sky bring us back to this path,
its attendant hedgerows and here
in the nooks of dry stone walls
pale seasonal flowers as if in hiding.
Between shifts we’d be out in midsummer,
taking to that familiar stretch of farmland
and each other: infinite worlds
among the cornstalks, under pebbles,
in the splash and froth of busy streams –
soon we’ll have to return or move on,
but for the moment, love, here’s
the pair of us, out of harm’s way,
shading our eyes against the sun.