I remember her distinctly,
she wore green flannel & cargo shorts,
Che cap & a stuck sunflower,
her braids exploded from under it.

She was proud of her antler-handled side knife
& jump boots, traipsed around
like she was on the nature boardwalk,
I heard she stalked Sasquatch once.

That girl was
the consummate outdoors woman,
she knew all about trapping,
skinning & first aid,
could make water
spring  from the ground.

Her grin was infectious,
a true aura of love hung
like dander around her,
her sensuality screamed
silently from her twinkling eyes,
the color of azure.

I was with her for one summer,
then I moved out of her sacred-valley.
Every time I look at the stars,
I remember her campfires
& the times we spent
at Moondipper
in each others arms
tasting marshmallows.