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.