t-rex smiles stretch
as wide as fields roll
trees hiding the end
of sky’s clear promise
as scatterings crunch
crisps and tin cans
atop hills of long grass
fist pumps and beats
our lasagne of bicycle
pins down an old mat
of the long week’s tales
wounds drifted away
by the gentle breeze
creaking through woods
of joggers and dogs
walking pebbled paths
the calm and vital dusk
a brief but rich daydream
dims the weekend bliss
of colour and space
we soak to its final charge
that powers us through
each necessary plan
until the next clear stretch
– for Joe