The grass was a cradle in the wind.
The warm afternoon had no edges.
When we awoke
The evening hung down from stars.
I don't recall an urgency or the sudden
chill of night. And yet, we ran.
It was so long ago.
The grass was soft and deep.
Writing in Nashville Tennessee, Thomas Heine's prose and poems have appeared in Adelaide Literary Magazine, Kansas Quarterly, Cumberland Poetry Review among others. Heine teaches German at Middle Tennessee State University.