I remember our laughter,
my hand warm in his, dancing like moonlight
across the crooked wooden bridge,
the gurgle of water against the row boat,
swimming under moonlight.
nestling against him at night
in his tent, hidden back in the woods,
I was so young.
I remember you, Nao, giggling in
the kitchen, listening to Maggie's reprimands
and her delicous zucchini ratatouille,
the gardens and Will, the smell of fresh
laundry filling our nostrils as we made
beds, cleaned bathrooms and
built a crooked bridge together.
do you remember, Nao?
we danced like moonlight across
our crooked bridge, shucked our clothing
and swam under the stars.