Our Spirit of Adventure

That warm and sun-soaked summer was the happiest time in my short and unhappy life.

We cruised the coastal highways and mountain backroads, top down and radio up, seeking adventure.

We stood hand in hand looking out over the edge of the continent, full of love for each other and love for our new home.

We trod brakish waters with bare feet, kicking at the warm shallows and splashing each other, giggling like schoolkids.

We stared up in awe at the towering firs draped in Spanish moss and populated by so many little birds.

We climbed misty mountain peaks, shivering against the cold and holding each other in the fog, each the other's world entire.

We cooked exotic dishes in our shabby little kitchen.

We picked out gaudy clothes at thrift shops and yard sales.

We listened to the crickets sing from our quiet little patio and sipped wine and talked about the world, our adventures past and adventures yet to come.

We laid down side by side at the end of each day and fell asleep in each other's arms.

You could never see my face, but my lips were always pursed in a smile.

My cheeks so often wet with tears when I beheld your majesty.

When I imagined our lives together, forever and ever.

What I would trade to see your smiling face again, your little black dress swirling in the wind as you danced and ran and laughed.

Oh, what I would trade to see my reflection in your soft brown eyes, wet with joy and narrowed by your smile.

But now you're gone, gone to bigger and better things while I rot and wither alone.

I wish I could say my happiest memories made me happy.

But all they do is remind me of how much I had, and how much I lost.

And now when I think joyful thoughts, I weep for days past.