In Memorial

thirty years ago
we etched our initials
into the tender bark
of a young maple tree

remember how we ran our fingers
along the rough edges, admiring
our art?

remember how we revisited
each year
to celebrate our work?

today i visited that tree
and i can no longer reach
the spot
that has now become
our memorial

when you left
so did i

65 thoughts on “In Memorial”

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