Light crosses light years to reach us and the stars
appear small and dim from here. As time expands,
the names of school friends recede when the divide
widens from the years we remember them over.
So when I look back I think of my friends
as constellations and see patterns in those distant lights,
connecting together the faint memories of youth
to create a set of stories to navigate by.
My gift for you was an acorn.
I told you to plant it
in your garden so you could always be
within reach of a forest.
So you planted it. And with time and rain,
a forest grew around your house.
Fawns graze at your door,
ferns are window frames,
and you are a neighbour
to oak. Observe the seasons
and the lessons they carry.
Collect twigs and moss
and learn to build a nest:
make it hard against the wind
but soft against the skin.
Home should be a place to return to.