take me back.

not too far,
just two-and-a-half(ish) decades
when I caved and agreed to have lunch with you

take me back.

not too far from where we sat that day,
but a lifetime of memories ago
when our conversations grew
like the mouth of the Hudson after the rain

take me back.

a walk through Central Park on a late summer day
homemade lunches remain untouched
tossed into a metal garbage can
with the Delacorte in view

take me back.

to the moment you remembered
to the moment you repeated what I said countless conversations prior,
to the moment I knew our love planted itself
in soil that would one day hold a towering oak

that we nurture(d)
that we grew
that we find with purpose as each season passes

take me back.

because I want you to see where it all started for me
because I want you to see how I see you
because I want you to see how I see us

you smile and say:

we have never left, my love–
as we sit hand-in-hand under oak-spun shade