The Lay By

We pulled up
In the lay by
To let
the seasons pass

Browned oak
Leaves and a
Pair of hands
Turned on
A branch

Upon occasion
Our shoulders
Touched

Snow bunched
In the wheel hubs

The roadside ponies
Quieted we missed ice
Turned off winter,
A television
Screen

We watched the
Seasons pass

Two oranges
Our picnic
Sun dimmed
Petrol-fumed breath

You stood apart
Under a new
Moon I fell
Asleep to the Levee

Deep in a
Pouch of the
Down low tones
Of you,

Singing autumn
On the way

In the lay by
Where we
Stopped -- shivering
Ice laced milkweed

Seasonally

By Reka Jellema and Brendan Bonsack
July 2014