Growing Years

A single Polaroid-memory from an early point in a relationship. It will be included in my forthcoming first collection of poetry.

We walked up the hillside

By following chiseled steps

Left by strangers before us

 

United in a common goal

But unlikely now to share

Camaraderie over drink

 

Thank you for the path you blazed

For I had no inkling of which

Black dash we were on the map

 

I would not tell you this

But I would tell you other things

About me

 

We examined tree rings

For draughts

And the growing, pleasant years

 

What would archaeologists

Make of the geospatial proximity

Of our bones if we lay here forever?

 

And when I came

To this final introspection

Would it matter if we were found

            Together?

Author's Note

Also, if anyone has invite capability to join Fictionaut, please let me know!