Row Cover
Together we make
The long beds
With a single sheet
So thin we can see
Each other through it
Pinning the ends
And edges down
With spadefuls of clay
We tamp flat
With the spade
If I could crawl in
Under it without
Crushing the seedlings
I would sleep
In the pale cool
The sleep of a boy
Who
Visiting cousins
In midsummer
Goes upstairs
While it is still
Light and finds
A bed has been
Made up for him
Of softest linen
And a window open