Echoes of Memory

A birthday card from you today
wakes the pain of an old wound,
like a stitch in my side,
of a day in midsummer
on an abandoned road arched
with leaves, hugged by a stream,
where we lay in the shade,
mocked by birds for our lack of song,
as they eyed us from nearby bushes.
We embraced and spoke in whispers
meant to keep us true forever.

Today the woods are bare,
crystal points edge the stream,
the birds have flown save for a bluejay
in a bush of shriveled berries.
If the past speaks to us, the words
sound like echoes of memory
where no rain like tears
falls to revive the wildflowers
where they shared our shelter
in one day of summer.