scenes from a country cottage: a sunny weekend

after a week of sharp inhales, short breaths, tight ponytails and pressed pants,

finally, an exhale. a deep, bellowing exhale.

with suppers under the pin oaks and clothes on the line and harvest from the garden.

a renewed appreciation for life in the country. beside the cornfield and the tractor shed. living out these honey-slow days, storing them up for when the phones won't stop ringing and the people won't stop talking and the clock won't stop spinning madly on.

we're building a time capsule, he and i.
of slow glances and early suppers and late night swinging on the porch .
burying it deep beneath clean sheets and warm earth
digging it up again when we're tired and have lost appreciation for this little town we never left
remembering these days
remember your blue collar?
what about my dirty feet, wet with clay from the morning?
ah yes, now it's coming back to me.