An Afternoon

spiraling grass cool and close to the skin

cushions the back of my neck

as I clasp my future into your gentle hand

and gaze upward into the mottled fortune telling tree branches

that are skimming off pieces of the sky

and mixing them up with brilliant flashes of late afternoon sun

to tell a story of you and I

in a lazy slumber of pregnant thoughts

brushing up against us

like little yellow butterflies