When we drive,
well, when I drive
down this one road,
between my folks house
and your parents...
There's this spec of land,
by the fire station over on the school side.
A farmer's field.
I love to drive right by, slowly,
at sunset.
The light peaks in ways I haven't seen all that often.
Like it did night we sat up on those slippery rocks.
Up off Ontario. I guided you over with your
delicate shoes.
fuck.
Good times.
The quiet
ones, even if my memory falter.
I'd like some more.
