Love in Autumn

Do you remember the meadow
when clover bloom brushed your knees
and bumblebees arched their backs
to plunder flowers, your eyes
dreamy with sunlight as you tasted the honey
of late love? The air trembled with
your low song and the meadowlark
listened to catch the tune and clouds
kept their shade from you, your hands with
the signs of work on them lay loose in your lap.
Autumn turned mellow with gold light
and each day set a crown of sweet
purpose on your hair.
It was then I came from my work with the
stains of sweat still on me, ears alive to catch
my name, my hands eager for your touch,
and the hard lines smoothed from my face and
labor turned light and the stony ground
softened for the plow and even the plow handles
themselves seemed hung with tiny bells.