i lean against your legs,
while i watch the poem drafts
i’ve been scribbling all evening
dance in the yellow campfire flame
while i drink the instant coffee
we made on a camp stove
and flavored with leftover creamer cups
we found forgotten in the car from our last road trip
while i dig my toes into
the cool mud from yesterday’s thunderstorm
while wearing the too big jean jacket
you stole from your father
while the fish splash against the bank
looking for crickets and fireflies
while i wonder if i have known you before
because there is an echo of a memory here
of the two of us
in the soil of these woods,
intertwined in all these miles of roots
like a poem i forgot i wrote

National Poetry Writing Month Day 19

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