At the family reunion, the cousins,
a girl and a boy, stood alone
in the kitchen of the farmhouse
away from the stories and laughter
in the parlor and dining room,
and in a glance at the back door
slipped barefoot into the yard
under the cover of the rain
into the woods towards a stream,
leapt over it into the mud
on the other side of the bank
not knowing what it was
they were chasing, slid down
a slick knoll of high grass
seasoned by summer,
tumbled into each other,
kissing to the teeth,
pulled at each other’s hair,
tore off tops and shorts
until they could touch
what they had chased,
let their bodies lead them
where they were led to go
Astonished,
they lay looking face to face
sleeping and waking,
watching the last clouds
of the storm push away,
lay the rest of the afternoon
drying with the sun
in realms of butterflies