on the madison county line
i waited
in the deep dark depths of mid july
and off to the side at the end of the little gravel road
a dilapidated and faded barn stood
and under an old oak
where a red checked picnic blanket was spread
i waited
and that old classic paperback i read
even though i’d read it far too many times
what’s once more when it brings such joy
and upon the thought of memories of black and white
there comes a crunch of tires upon the gravel
and up the road comes the little sedan
i see her dark tousled hair whip around as she parks
and then she tumbles out and over to me sheepish smiles
there are sparkles in her eyes
what now she says shall we not recommit our love
yes i say simply and in that recommit our lives
and in that moment her eyes met mine and we stood
in the profound symmetry of frozen time
and then upon the blanket we sat and i uncorked the wine
and we raised our glasses said a toast and slowly drank
to us to future glory to that truest of all stories
there off that gravel road on the madison county line