Sunday Afternoon in August

We walk together
I’m squinting under the high afternoon sun
While you’re shielded by the brim of your hat 

I’m not saying much but
I’m hanging on your every word 

Market stalls and a green drink for each of us
As we rest, talking of travels and
Planned adventures with other loved ones
Before heading off again

I think I hear distant bagpipes starting to play 

We wander until we find ourselves
Strolling right into your memories
Fountains, strange encounters,
Stacks of firewood
They’re decades past but still
In the chambers of your heart
And even in the sometimes tangled
Hallways of your memory palace
I believe they’ll always find their way back to you 

Now I imagine I can see them as if they were still there
And wonder if the image in my mind is anywhere close
To what you remember 

Do you hear it too? The bagpipes?
Those are definitely bagpipes.
(They’re so lovely, at a distance!)

The memories are leading
And I’m happy to follow them with you
Right into that dark bar
Where you teach me how to eat oysters
And that gin is far more tolerable with brine

I listen, and listen, and prompt for more
There are always more to be found 
And, somehow, all your experience and lessons
Never make me feel lesser 

These tellings of memories, without a doubt
More precious than beautiful market stroll
Received tenderly as though a gift

Memories past — may they always follow gentle streams
To find their way back to you
And crinkle the corners of your eyes 

Memories to come — may they hold you softly
Whisper sweetness in your ear
And settle perfectly alongside those
That have already come to pass

And if it isn’t too much trouble
For me to make one little wish:

I hope you ask those memories
To kindly save a little space 
So that you may tuck away a little piece of me in there too
That one doesn’t need to be shared
But I hope you at least carry it with you
For the rest of your days 
So you won’t completely forget the quiet listener
Who heard you, and tried to understand
A little bit of what she could never know 
And who, because of you, 
Was finally able to write herself into the world 

.

Sunday, August 17, 2025