Weekend arrived. Again, they went in leave of city for farm and hidden home within the trees.
Late of spring showed sign in give to summer-change. Full leaf of the trees in stands as they passed, in roll of hills, river bottoms, and patterned lines of fence rowed fields.
Pastures showed green; some low grazed and others tall in save for hay or later use, beginning heads of seed on tall of stalks, spread of different shades of yellows, greens, and creams that blurred in blend of drive and passing.
Within the green, white and red-violet blooms shown amongst the stands; and in the wild natives, wildflowers of lavenders, whites, and oranges appeared, vibrant amongst entangle.
Hides of the herds were smooth and shined, short-haired, in loss of winter coats.
Farmed fields appeared in different shades and states: pale green of early corn, darker so of beans in first true leaves, furrowed lines through brown where not emerged and burnt yellow-tan where sprayed and cover died.
They arrived to farm and home in hour of the yellow light, sun’s falling in the west and shine through trees, eye to eye in ethereal dazzle.
She felt the stir and alive of return, a home for spirit-soul, a way that touched her there and found in nowhere else though she had traveled world in seek.
Returned, settled, she made for room and opened window pane. Songs of the night, frogs and birds sonorous with the stars carried on the cooling air touching into room.
Candles’ light beside the bed and corners of the room danced the walls in gentle light. Soft-illumed from every angle, their shadows were erased; and in openness of night and light they loved in the delicate of candles’ dance.
Morning came. Again, song of birds played in wake and greeting of the sun; cool of the air and added damp of dew’s blanket in last of night.
She rose to the song. She rose to the feel, covering in shirt that left legs free; air’s coolness on her skin dimpling its smooth in raise, lovely stirring of a wake.
As coffee brewed, she gazed to the east and sight of the rising sun; its catch and glow in blanket of dawn-dew’s cover of the land; tops of the trees in rising through, yellow glow of light above.
Home.
At peace.
Serenity in morning’s spirit.
She heard his steps, and met his join with smile in frame of sun; light’s catch in glow within her hair, in gold, as silver of the dew.
She leant upon the heirloom stove, its heart awaiting flame. Warming, skin smoothed again, porcelain white as doors of stove; grace of his hands upon her arms as he kissed her slow in the waking day.
In holding of its keep, both waking as the day—warming, rising, appearing through dawn-coverings.
Lift of shirt’s fall, gentle of find, kiss continuing in keep; he raised her onto heirloom rest and loved her in the light.