The haystacks in Poland are little pyramids. "They look like Cousin It," I said, and wished I hadn't because he looked a little confused and then remembered seeing It on reruns while I had seen the originals.

But his kiss was still sweet and in the evening as we huddled under our coats in the twilight with the lights of the houses in the country flashing by,

his hands were warm and he arched to my touch.

Dawn was beautiful in Poland.

The sun rose slowly and the sky was streaked and smeared with red and orange and myriad shades between. We touched and watched as the red ball tipped the horizon

in a field of color and slowly, slowly ascended, spreading light and color onto the gray land around us, until it stood tall in the morning sky and

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