If I could, I would grasp that moment forever,
That moment when you and I ventured down to the muddy shore and
There we found the cloudless sky and wildest birds and open waves that
Beckoned us descend from the dark woods.
There we plowed our fingers in the muddy silt
And you made me a pizza out of mud (which you called “boatz”)
And you offered me your “boatz” Pizza and
I, oh, I would have eaten it and swallowed it –
Devoured it so all of this would burn alive within me even now.
You with your dancing eyes, your hair sailing in the breeze and
I, with my heart lofting above this plane, seeking flight forever.
today I walk on this same beach,
Only it’s different now,
the sky no longer blue but cloud cluttered.
Grace and beauty remain but there is a cleft,
an unfilled place where you once squatted in the sand.
We are such sentimental creatures,
Always yearning to hold tight that which has already passed.
Our minds drift back to those details,
Yearning, yearning, for their return and
Grieving, grieving their passage.
They are forever gone.
And yet we have this memory, which we bind to our hearts.
Soon today’s clouds, today’s waves, this nostalgia, this poem,
Will become yet another memory to cherish.
The dog, ever practical, awaits me at the trail’s edge,
Beckoning me to leave this strand, and these memories, and
Ascend to the darkening woods
And the world of things.
David Hanig 