A SUMMER’S DAY

 

I went out to the meadows, far and near.

I spent my time in wooden inns.

I drank vodka, wine, and dark, brown beer,

To the happy sound of mandolins.

 

I asked the pretty, blond waitress to give me a kiss

In the tall, soft stacks of bright, yellow hay,

In the empty, red farmhouse behind the bar.

Her mouth was delicious, and our bodies met with bliss,

In the shimmering gold of the gilded day,

To the jig of a breeze-blown, distant guitar.

~ John Lars Zwerenz