You Make Me Recall Ann Clark

I'm glad to have met you
even a little bit and wonder
what if we had met in the Summer
among the trees and talked.

What would it mean to consume you,
hour after hour and feel
what you think of me, take you in
travel your paths?

I remember bundles of laughter
surrounded by flesh, mysteries
becoming charms, then vanishing
as the picnic ended. Moving away.

I called after them
I chased fantasies of them.
The Summer, the picnics,
the mischief much like yours.