Litkicks Message Board Archive

Under the Elm

Posted to Poetry

the wind above us
ruffled the leaves in the tree
under which we were lying,
in a manner reminiscent
of the hem of a linen skirt
i used to wear on spring days

i was propped up on one arm,
reading the lines of your face
like the pages in a good book,
over and over,
absorbing them into me
until i could quote their passages

you lay on your back
a grey tweed page-boy cap
pulled low, to shade your eyes
and your fingers interlaced
over your stomach,
a half smile playing over your lips

the breeze caught the blonde wisps
of hair that frame my face
and blew them across my eyes,
like lace curtains over parlour windows,
giving you the opportunity
to reach up and brush them back,
allowing your touch to linger
along my brow