staying sweet
in the north country
picking bluebells between blueberries
in our blue jeans
rolled up past the ankles
to feel the morning dew
coating leaves of grass
between our toes
as we hang
between each linen
a dried red rose
like ghosts in the yard
the white linens settle and sway
in a northern waltz
to the song of the breeze
scattering through the windchimes
to the smell of roses
sifting through the
fresh mountain air
sitting on the screened-in porch
sipping lavender tea
lounging in our wooden chairs
of walnut and mahogany
quilted blankets across our laps
to keep away the evening chill
watching as the sun slips
through the birches and passes
behind the grand northern hills
