All day de Meg Hutchinson

All day,
we are the only ones alive
or so it seems, under the blue sky ...
in the fields of green
the sun, having risen just for us,
tingles and whispers on our skin
and these lines, between our bodies shining,
gossamer on the wind
it's good to love when we should not love
trying not to let things come undone
we leave our secrets like white butterflies,
dancing, dancing, dancing above
and if time and age,
were not such heavy things
if we did not wear them like wedding rings
we would find,
where the shore knows the tide
where the creek runs through irrigation lines
and in, our lives passing we learn
of all that's good and all that hurts
spinning round, the orbit of another earth
with our hands buried in the dirt
and at night, through crazy dreams we lurch
iangled in our sheets and in our animal thirst