I want to go back to the boat launch,
To feel the oil’s heat and the lake’s cool touch.
I want to unpack that old life vest,
And smell the long dried water.
But I want to remember that,
And walk forward.

I want to walk up my grandma’s tall steps,
To see the old paneling,
To decorate that old tree.
I want to be told that it’s too cold
To go out on snow days.

I want to be time for recess,
To play in the dirt; to be told
We can’t play wall-ball one more time.
To run in circles instead,
Where the playground always seemed to be broken.
So I want to remember it,
And move on.

I want to be picked up from practice,
To climb over the fence to get my ball back,
Get my haircut at the mall, or be good
at coin-push again
I want the park to seem far away again
For traffic not to be a thought
I want to remember all of that.

I think I will,
One day when I’m thirty,
A thought or a conversation,
Will bring it all back.
All of those days I am thankful for,
I’d remember the clear memories,
See the faded thoughts,
Half-filled journals might remember too.