when the morning still
brought mist and sweatshirts
hot coffee in mugs
of every shape and color

we were sitting on the hill

I taught you how to whistle on a blade of grass

erupting in jubilance and joy
how nature's kazoos meet birdsong and laughter
and we were rolling
rolling
rolling
with bright blue ice cream dribbling down
our fingers and chins
stickier than desire
holding sticks with
marshmallows on the ends
and tadpoles in our hands
and goodwill in our hands
and hands in hands in hands
with knotted bracelets on our wrists
everlasting bonds connecting
hammocks swinging side by side
when the sunset lit up your face
in cotton candy strawberry orange sweetness
smiling wider than
the warmth of compassion can spread
butter on cornbread and too much
tomato soup overflowing
mailboxes stuffed with handwritten
fondness and effortless understanding
for why dogs love to wag their tails
while we bark at the moon
mistaking fireflies for shooting stars
and shooting stars for something bigger than
hearts singing in rhythm
to bedtime story lullabies humming
of roses with nearly thornless stems
and eternal budding wonder
for how long mermaids can
hold their breath underwater
giggling in the world beneath
a canoe overturned
stones finger-painted with indigo
dyed cloth tied tightly through
braided hair come loose in the wind
and we were rolling

rolling down the hill
toward the big oak tree
as the leaves began to change