I have hidden myself away
amongst the trees and
gentle night sounds, the dew and the
reckless calls and running soles of feet, the grass that stings ankles.
My back is damp and we lie,
looking up into the vastness.
You point upwards, fumble at fingers for intertwining,
secrets laid bare, the jubilant song
of teenagers-turned-coyotes
sounds over the next hill.
Just beyond the world’s edge, we
peered  at where those mountainous outlines
could still be seen in the dark.
This home we come from is lost at the first glimpse of Autumn.
Once we remember how our eyes looked last July,
we will be further away than ever.