After Walking in Sunlight
Some things unmapped
count most. We remember
this touch of light,
that leaf, this rock
as one seen
elsewhere.
Words remembered from a page past;
that wide glance from your first grandchild
like the one you gave ... when?
Not so long ago
even yesterday
the jump rope pounded the ground hard
where roots of ancient schoolyard trees
cobbled through like the fibrous sinews
of knowing
all that sunnery
all those leaves
brighter than stained glass
there in the future.