The muddy cliff slide

broken by a hard round rock,

Looked up to see the underside of a cloud,

and a dark tree bough

Falling in slow motion and sideways into backwards memory of kids running curious and loping like dogs and lightheaded finding things, anything

the circle of light at the top of the hill

the fold of green moss that unearths treasures,

The span of sky that’s held up by the cathedral of small green blue saplings

. When a twig breaks and draws blood across my cheek it’s almost gleeful.