Sunday Afternoon

it’s warm warm enough not to be cold for fall
you take my hand and we stroll along
spread the blanket and reach with your eyes to the sky
while all around us the children are playing in a slow motion

sunday afternoon

who knows how old is this general tso’s i found in my fridge
you munch on focaccia i boughtcha at the farmers market
i look at you and i wonder where you came from
but you just laugh and sometimes our legs intertwine