Hole In The Hedgerow

Flowers walking around

And dancing birds

In a garden

That’s all any of us are

Love isn’t alive or dead

But like trees asleep in the winter

And romance fills the air

Not alive or dead

But caught out in an early spring rain

Cold and wet and dulled by the passing grey clouds

Waiting for a break in the storm to run home with each other

The bees hide in the petals as it rains

Birds bathe in the puddles

Cold hands reach for an embrace

And our warmth draws us together