81 Under pied sycamores we sagged

81                       

Under pied sycamores we sagged,

lazy in the melding heat,

limbs leaf-heavy, spirits snagged,

the thick roots throttling our feet.

 

Wreathed in droplets, shaggy with shade,

the body of our breathing made

common cause with summer, and at ease

we dreamed our mottled dreams like trees.