Memory Forest

Walk with me please.
Lace up your adventuring boots and throw on a too-big coat, and just walk with me.
We’ll go farther and wider then we ever have before
fingers in celtic knots
of hesitant promises.
Walk with me through glittering dew drops
left from the rain in which we departed home.
Of course we waited until it began raining
for your eyes sparkle in the droplets and
I would not miss it for the world.

My sneakers will connect with the newly fallen leaves
and we’ll pick some up to tape into
leather bound notebooks.
And we’ll write the constellations of our memories
on the pages and
fill in the gaps with watercolor and ink.
Just for us to look at later.

Tiny rocks will fill our pockets but
they’ll never be too heavy to carry.
At some point we’ll come across a clearing
with tree stumps that fit us perfectly together
and we’ll sit and eat the half-squished sandwiches
and litter the ground with orange peels
and make fun of the squirrels as they pass us by.

And no time will have passed in these woods
Just you and I and our wound clocks
ticking away until reality returns
but so will we some day
I promise you this.
We’ll return again and find more leaves than before
and sit on the stumps
and trace the same constellations on the backs of each other’s hands
so we never, ever lose them.