i don’t remember the last time i’ve been outside like that.
he took me to the four wheelers,
through the paths worn by time,
then he let me lead,
until i tired him out
and he said i should go on my own,
just come in if it starts to rain.
he’s gotten older since i was here last,
i haven’t breathed in fresh air like that
since i can’t remember when.
i felt like i could finally think.
the humidity kept the grass tall and green,
though the trees were bare
and the sky got dark,
but the wind was my friend,
and no matter where i turned,
i always ended up back home.
he told me i could come back anytime,
to keep the paths cleared,
he said.
i told him,
maybe i will.

maybe i will.