I remember running barefoot through the fields;
Then, laying in a bed of wildflowers,
We watched the clouds float lazily past.
I must have said something amusing then,
because you laughed your genuine laugh
And picked me up and carried me to the stream.
We dipped our feet in the cold, flowing water
As we sat, hand in hand,
On the outstretched bough of a graceful willow.
The dappled afternoon sun
Shone down on my fair hair, and your dark hair, and
Though we have always been opposites,
I treasure that memory because it was a happy one.