Westwind

Distill

Cody Koester

 

As when we stared into this lake once, still

young, reflection coupled, I’ve returned. Light

flashes sun-wake back into remembered

past. We tested echoes against the empty

cliffs, laughed at reverberations always

answered. I took your hand, warm, and taught you

how to skip a stone, spun-strength hung suspended,

 

ricocheted, before gravity’s motion

takes its turn. You asked, leaning into me,

if we will do this when we’re old— never

once, then, did I doubt it. These memories, full,

I hope that where you are you’ve not forgotten,

as when hilltops hold day’s gold before the dusk.

I keep you here in my memory still.

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