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I only faintly remember coming this far.
This far for escape to be penetrated
by shaking fences of green GO flashing by.
It’s the Northeast end,
where the rugged path curves to a
yellow sign warning “No Trespassing”.
In a few weeks They will trespass though,
and clip the coloured wings of
tree tags to make their
long noble bodies fall.
There’s an ancient one with thick nubby bark,
She needs two ribbons to be held;
Red and Blue.
It would take an army to cut her down;
An army and a wince.
I only faintly remember coming this far,
But I did.
I remember the denser mess of
tangled branches in an
arc over waded water strutted
with white flowers.
I remember the proudness
of reaching the other side,
through mud and falls and the
lineup on the boards. Seeing bright faces
peeking round from bends, coming back,
trotting, laughing.
Going around to the other side of the stream.
We’re older now and
the long leg of years I’d prayed to be over
is long over.
The details are blurry now,
and I may be wrong,
but I know I felt peace here.
From gentle trickling water and
gliders and the bends,
from hidden faces and the found.
Finding ways over and under and
observing a chipmunk
not scared in the stillness of a messy-haired child.
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