The first time we stayed awake
until we caught the dawn, you
whispered me past limp friends who
didn't last the night. I swore
when I thought your loud front door
betrayed our plan. My mistake.
We laughed, walked past tall palm trees
that touched morning sky then turned
right. I followed you and learned
your secret place, a tired log
caught in a cliff. We sat agog,
felt the wonder of a soft breeze--
Four skinny legs dangling free,
daring God to save us from harm.
We talked until the sun grew warm
and our dreams gave way to hunger.
Now, I see we were much younger
then than I supposed. Age can be
Like that. The old log is long gone.
A new house took its place. The view
from the window is still nice, but
no breezes blow there and the cliff--
Just a safe patchwork of cement.
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