We are autumn fruit
lying in a field
gazing at sky through lacy grasses.
Rain or sun – no matter.
Do I know you?
hidden as you are between bone and skin?
When we are done
this field will be our home
and summer fruits our children.
© photo and poem by carole fults
NOTE: This poem was first published in the Aurorean, New England’s Premier Independent Poetry Journal.Please check out their website at http://encirclepub.com/aurorean/