IN SPITE OF THE SUN

do not judge!

We search once more

through thickets of branches

viewing waltzing clouds

which shroud the sun

time to breathe in scents of fresh grass

on the meadow green

teeming with clumps of clover

rather than the airless forest

where ferns and laurels seize the air

to leave us sticky with sweat dripping

its way to our limbs

 

We sprint with our belongings

stumbling over tree stumps, small rocks, and puddles

to the open space of the meadow

where the sun can no  longer judge our intimacy

 

Clouds reassure us to re-new our covert romance

although they whisper about the risk that our picnic

may soon turn to mud

we fear, but nonetheless savor what remains of our food

 

We have an urge to caress on soft earth

on a hillside beneath a willow tree

though the clouds grow into large billows of fluffy gray

we delay, in suspect that our passion

may be put on hold

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Thank you for reading!

Reviews

[Re-Pete]

you enjoy leaving the reader in suspense. "judge not lest ye be judged." enjoyed the nature references. a bit risky and risque. someone said that the hills have eyes. great title and writing. well told.

[Betty Hermelee]

Very thoughtful review Pete, always love all your nuances🌷warmly, B