simple things—
walking out on sunset to meet you,
the crunch of gravel on our feet,
creaks of chains on swings,
ice cream for fifty cents.
sitting on a rusty blue bench
until the sky fades into black
going back home,
waiting for tomorrow.
the memories blurring at the edges,
getting harder to hold on to.
I thought they would last forever
but Death took it all away
and I miss you more than you know,
these simple nights with you and I.
for all these things I would trade—
the world.
