The Camp Years

I slept sleeps in keeping with the thought

That we simply walked two different paths

Rains and autumns unto years through which

You smiled into other faces from farther parts

Forgetting each time the leaves turned again


I let that red string lie and then it was gone

Anchored by imaginings groundless

Anything could have been

After I left you


Image of the Kettle Valley Trail

The Jade Peony