Hot Summer Day 1962.

We lay there once

one summer,

carefree and with youthful

searching for meaning,

but more for the key

to a deeper love beyond

the touching and tickles,

birds I recall in a summer sky,

then the distant motion of traffic

going to or from

somewhere beyond,

and I recall the sway

of tall grass,

and us lying there

whispering to each other

our words filling the heated air,

and the rabbits

looking at us

with apprehension

before hoping away

on that hot

summer day.