something_s we make
and before the last nights of summer subside
to stay warm some place else,
i sit down here to write this ode
to these long nights with you
that were so pure, so close, so calm
but will fleet
– and may already have.
when the sun was finally high and hot
and we far away from home
and all electronics mostly off
it was then that essence ebbed in.
we’d left the world out on the doorstep
of our tiny yellow tent
to swing in the hammock or sit in the grass
and take a breath as well.
And slowly, surely, it was then,
that she came seeping in
through the net surrounding us at night
and melting us into those sheets.
we awoke not brutally to eclectic sounds
but to birds welcoming the light
and sipped coffee long and silently
and went down to the sea.
we rarely stepped beneath a roof
and needed not its rigor
but stretched up toward the skies
and may have grown a little taller.
one time, you made those pannenkoeken
with apples, chocolates, jam,
and for the first time, then, alas,
nostalgia knocked on the door.
one year ago, after our first,
she came with the very same smell
and brought upon us fall so fast
that it tugged some, though barely, this round.
we talked lots, read more, and I prayed some, too,
with a filled and bursting heart
that times like this would last
with their echo, into wintertime.
so as the last warm days are upon
the lands and our skin
I drink it in, so rich, so clear,
the promises of youth.
They lie not in the distractions polluting
our senses all and always
but in the mindfulness of us
for each other and the now.
And so here I stop to step out once more
without these socks and coats
to look up at the stars above
and rest here