sweet tea

sit a spell with me
I’ll get supper started early
there’s an evening show
of lightning bugs and lace
seven stars forgot their way
and line up o’er the orchard
tea the shade of bourbon
sighs mistook for grace

there’s a word for this
though I can scarce remember
seems silence says it best
this time of year
close your eyes
and catch the scent
of apple blossoms stirring
essence of ten thousand wings
come to find us here

beneath the trees
amid the season long reserved
for canning
we’ll break some beans
and talk of days gone by
side by side
this old porch swing
screen door off the hinges
hanging clothes for Sunday
another moon to spy

on open hearts
and eager hands
where I was
you found me
short the road that runs between
destiny and might
tapping toes to crooked boards
laughter swills in quiet
tea the shade of bourbon
sweet the break
of night