we have grown older, a good thing if we’re honest, Time passes, stops to leave roots in memories which will intertwine and also change, then moves on, repeats, repeats, adds scars, fears, joys, lines and wrinkles, repeats, repeats, changes the surface of our bodies just when we think we’ve memorized each bit, the cords of your neck, your shoulders and the smooth plain below, becoming deep, quick tributaries merging then joining between your collar bones to form a river flowing into the valley, so that in the dark my old, old fingers can trace them gently, softly, unhurried in taking Time to learn the new landscape and its shared pleasures just as I have with every change since our trek began, as we will together, repeat, rejoice, repeat.