I. Summer

When I think of you it's summer

though I'd know you anywhere.

Sitting here on the bridge we used to

Listening to the way my steps echo from the steel to the muddy water below

Hearing the rocks grind against metal as I drag my feet,

Moreso now than I did then, since you're not here to hate it

I hang my legs over the bridge, just like I was always scared to then,

Unconcerned for the water moccasins that once plagued my nightmares.

You weren't there to keep them away.

Our tree still stands and the knot we abused seems relaxed, though I know it isn't.

No longer pelted with bullets every saturday.

No target practices in years.

Would you recognize me here?

We didn't come in the night, though I do now,

To look at the moon you once pointed out driving

Through some insignificant town like Snowball or Friendship.

"See that there?" you'd said, "That big ole beautiful thing?"

"I hung it just for you, ya know."

And I know now you really didn't

But it doesn't matter

From then on it was mine.

It still is. Just like this place.

I recognize you here.

I know you here.

Do you know me?