Remember

How do I remember the breeze of yesteryear, the scent of pine and maple, the sighting of the deer. I remember in the woods the stars we gazed upon; when we were cold, we made a fire; back when I was your son. Before things hurt, never betrayed, so innocent were we, back when we camped at dogwood by the Chris Columbus tree. How fondly I remember that we could catch no fish, but when we saw some falling stars I knew to make a wish. So wonderful the forest, then, my fondest memory; for only when we bivouacked were you a dad to me.