Both of us, smiling,
A little out of breath,
Now on the
Far side of
The duck pond.

I listen to the rhythm
Of her breathing
And see the slight
Rise and fall of
Her chest,
The bead of sweat
On her upper lip,
Inviting me to taste it.
My thoughts wander,
Cementing that sound,
That rhythmic breathing
Into my memory.


I look forward to hearing it again.