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.

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