There's not a day going by that I don't think of you. Although, for a while, your voice in my mind had gone quiet. T sent me a photo and I thought it might be one of the night we spent at the bent of the river, sitting outside the tents rather than sleeping off the day of hiking, enjoying the company, the stars, the moment. Alas, it was a picture of flowers carefully arranged next to the road. Flowers in all rainbow-colors before the backdrop of crushed underbrush and a mangled tree. How well I remember the road, riding it with you with the top down, the wind in our hair and the radio telling us which song to sing.
I dreamed of you last night. I was sitting in the grass at the edge of the woods. You were stretched out, with your head in my lap, my hand in your hair. You turned your head, a lazy smile on your face, reaching up. Those are the pictures that are worth keeping, the laughter and singing while driving down that winding road, the languid quiet and oh, so sweet moments. Not some rainbow flowers slowly wilting away as cars rush by.
Thank you so much for coming back to me, even if it's only in my dreams.
Be well, my friend, wherever you are ...
I dreamed of you last night. I was sitting in the grass at the edge of the woods. You were stretched out, with your head in my lap, my hand in your hair. You turned your head, a lazy smile on your face, reaching up. Those are the pictures that are worth keeping, the laughter and singing while driving down that winding road, the languid quiet and oh, so sweet moments. Not some rainbow flowers slowly wilting away as cars rush by.
Thank you so much for coming back to me, even if it's only in my dreams.
Be well, my friend, wherever you are ...
