Bundling
How one goes sparking:
night clothes, repose,
fabric sack
in the sweetness
of dark, early-to-bed
husbandry of firewood,
drawstring that closes
the bag the girl
is wrapped in.
Her parents tucked
them in. She lies awake,
listens to his breathing.
Scarcely a word
exchanged, but
conversation is in
the touch. There’s
temptation in the cold,
and that centerboard
which parts them,
unyielding plank.