we, in a meadow - a poem

The meadow was not green we tread, but brown,

I suppose the season was fall, beneath the Capricorn Sun

There were stalks laid over where others before us

Had traversed, how long, how long, we didn’t know



The windswept trees showed the wind moved East

While the grand River below eddied along in its current

Slowly eroding the silt the ancient mound builders had left

When they left so long ago….



As we moved further in, to the forest

Our backs lined with the thistles from dead flowers

The Sun began to fade and the day moon popped up

Hovering over a sycamore tree, heralding a new eve



There in the trees, deciduous and new

We felt the dew of the night raining down through the leaves

Unafraid of the appearance of sprites, or the gas of swamps

We trudged further in, unafraid, only naturally vigilant



Night was in full bloom now, the air warmer with swamp dew

trees made the sky opaque, just silver bits of Moon shining through

we had made a pact to make our destination

whether in one half hour or whether it took all night



hiking through foothills, finally the deep pool in the center

appeared as silver as a quarter in the hand, gleaming

we let go our packs and undressed to our shorts and tops

and dove into the cool, cold water, depending on how deep we dove.



No other reason for our secret destination.

Just children living vicariously without even knowing

Unafraid, uninhibited, we made our way back, now stronger

As each journey will do, make one stronger that is….



Sleep, sleep, now in our homes separate, apart,

But friends’ dreams often overlap when children,

And the next day we still held hands

As we made our way to school,



Best friends, lovelocked forever, now more dangerous

Than any pond in a forest…..dangerous as a love of thirty years,

That is.