Hole In The Hedgerow

A little house anywhere,

Full of cat hair and dog fur.

Maps on the walls and books on the shelf,

Knick knacks from travels scattered about.

Dishes in the sink,

And the fridge,

Buried behind the cards, magnets, and wedding invites,

And the calendar,

With each square packed by different handwriting.

It’s October of some far-off year.

We go for walks when it rains and run when it storms.

We still stay up all night by accident,

And watch the sunrise together.