ramble before dusk

Did you ever wander out into a field with your little sister? Each of you grabbing a recorder and playing “Swing Low” in harmony while following goat paths through the forest and bramble. And poison oak. And through the barbed wire fence and across the gravel road. And into your neighbor’s big open field.

Did you ever stop and try to pick blackberries with your lips? One needs nourishment when one is out on the open road. And you can’t pick with your fingers because you have poison oak on your hands.

Did you ever finally make it back to the pavement and find a puddle - a perfect mirror of trees and blue sky - and jump in, trying to find the door into that other world?

Were you ever far from home and starting to itch? On your neck and ankles. And you aren’t playing your recorder anymore - because it probably has poison oak on it too. But you can use it to scratch that hard to reach place between your shoulders.

Did you ever stop right before going inside to see the secr- I mean, to vow secret silence to never reveal the…. Well, the thing that was revealed to you but you ought never to reveal to anyone else?

And then did you ever use a hose to wash each other off? With shampoo on your faces, and your eyes twisted closed, trying to squirt each other clean?

I did.