Poem in imitation of Douglas Dunn's 'Land Love'
The gate is warming in the morning sun
and where it holds my arms. Over the fields
I see your head limp and I kiss our son.
The still cold breeze halts. It scents his hair
Where it stirs under my lips. Thin
and warmer; You approach us, bearing pears
in your thick arms. Our child gargles at the
orchard and the softening view. You
check, pause and smile in your journey.
Bulbous fruits red-rolling your hairs, and, damp
from the tree, wetting the shirt. You
are as toughened and tall he is plumped
The pears are for us both and our
fences whiten in the light. Faces
turning simultaneous to him,
pinkened by the wind and by the joy.