Breaking through the blackthorn shrub,
her skirt caught on a branch,
and she fell, dragging me down with her.
Entangled, we lay there laughing
and staring up at the bright,
burning red sky above.
Through the dense shrubbery,
I briefly saw a plump of geese soaring high.
"They must’ve heard the gunshot," I thought,
my heart still racing from all the running.
Lying there on my back,
I turned to face her,
to tell her that I’d fallen for her long before
we lay together in a blackthorn shrub;
long before she let me into her father’s house;
before we almost kissed that time last summer,
when we drove all night just to watch that meteor shower.
And I was going to tell her.
I was.
But as I opened my mouth,
I spotted the farmer creeping towards us.
So, I grabbed her arm instead,
and we made another run for it.