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Maybe one day I’ll tell you the story about the flowers in the meadow

I’ll make it sweet, honeysuckles and dandelions

Weeds nipping at your ankles, so you ran to the tree-line

Laughing for hours

I’ll make it last forever

I lassoed a cloud for you, but it disappeared

The rope fell and landed on a strong branch, perfect to hang a swing from

So I did

You floated above the whole countryside, heels bookending the sun

The wood never rotted, the rope never frayed

The patches of green grass never faded

The rain stayed away

I’ll tell you the days tasted like honey

We lined our pockets with wildflowers and stole pebbles from the creek bed

Wild thieves with wild dreams

Cowboys and pirates and sailors

Though there is no law here, only nature, only silence and unwritten promises

I’ll come back, I’ll return what I stole

I’ll tell you we crossed the river on steady legs, balanced on a fallen aspen

And never looked down or back

Our footprints embedded in the slippery mud on the other side of the creek

Rosy skies and the cosmos at our fingertips

I’ll tell you about it even when you don’t remember

I’ll slice an apricot and pretend it’s the sun that waned to let the moon shine

The clouds the cobwebs draped in the corners

The tree limbs the cracks below the windowsill, so far below you

Here is the piece of rope that held the swing

Here is the sound of running water and the smell of grass

Reach for sunlight, caress each fragile lily and tulip

Can you picture it yet?

The sun dipping below the trees, pleased with itself

The moon in full ephemeral bloom

Red brick clay creek beds

Legs stretching tall, going far

You, a brave soldier, in the middle of it all

Me, a storyteller, at the end of it all

I’ll tell you the city was still there when we returned

Arms full of flowers and fruit

Cheeks soft and sore

I’ll tell you we ate like kings and kept court in the living room

Dust swarming but harmless because your lungs are good now

And the shower is warm, the water reliable

The days were ripe sunflower seeds

The nights were dewy leaves and apple cores

One day, I’ll tell you the story, promise