A Winter Dream of Spring

Let’s get lost in a ditch
where the hoary bindweed grows,
where the sun is at half-mast
and the wind won’t reach our toes.

Let’s pretend it is forever spring
And the May apples call to us
In their leafy canopy beneath the oak
In the dark and crowded hush.

Let’s be lovers in the milkweed field,
In the grass between the rocks,
And hide our cares in the cracked earth
Til time has stopped its clocks.

–for Ken

–Shaun Perkins