August 18, 2015

with summer still in their eyes

The sun was setting earlier than yesterday, and the cows

were uneventful. The road would bring no more traffic 

that evening. Fifteen miles a way, a town rested its tired arms.

The travelers were tired, too. They cobbled dinner together

from the findings in a country store - iceberg lettuce, baked potatoes,

a wedge of local cheese - then slunk outdoors to catch the final light.

They each felt a scratch at their backs, a new season tapping its nails

against their thin shirts. They knew this moment couldn't last.

And yet, with summer still in their eyes, they waited until the final rays

disappeared behind the mountains, until the stars arrived, like answers.