“Take a walk with me,” you said,
opening the screen door
to a spring evening
on the edge of dusk.
The stars anchored the heavens
with a crystalline light
and a wispy breeze fluttered
your hair
as we passed the aging barn
to our right,
masked in shadow.
I could hear the horses stirring
with the sound of our footsteps.
An owl cried out, its silhouette
dropping to the earth talons first -
night vision finding its prey.
The deserted road
cut the corn fields like a wound,
black against moonlit gold
oozing down the hill -
side ditches filled with
skunk cabbage, dandelion, and trout lily.
You took my hand firmly,
as we stared at the moon,
now full and visible above the white pine
tree-line.
Leftover glint from the heavens
settled on our eyes,
traveling light years to
fall on us
and spark our path
around the next bend.
Where we would go
after that
I didn’t know then.
Only knew of that moment,
the warmth of your hand in mine,
matching steps stride for stride -
a beautiful rhythm of two.

© Laura DeHart Young