Walking (with Jerry)
We walked in autumn
under arched canopies of gold and red maples
on a path made from an old rail bed
along the swift moving Schulykill
full from late summer rains.
We walked in spring
on trails trimmed in fern and moss
shaded by Douglas fir and sweet smelling cedar
Jason racing ahead in fits and starts
to dig in the damp dirt of
the secret amber place.
We walked Yosemite in winter
Jason in a carrier on your back
wearing a sky blue knit beanie
eyes round in excitement at the sight
of puffy snowflakes
landing on his tiny hands.
We walked in summer
on high slopes of the Montana Rockies
searching a mountain pass for
whistling marmots and mountain goats
shivering in the cold
despite the bright sun.
We walked many seasons
the sage hills of Laguna
the concrete and glass canyons of Manhattan
the rocky shores of the Pacific in Baja
Vancouver, and Oregon.
We walk hand in hand now
under palms on Coffee Pot Bayou
manatee, dolphin, turtles
rays and egrets keep us company.
We talk of everything and nothing
content with the season
and each other.
