Every day is the same old day.
A moth passes the doorway
Then flies away.

Slips in the mud
Hand out
Catches the ground
Smears the dirt
Saved by a light leap to a rock
Swift, gyrating balance
Before a second jump to the sand
On the opposite bank
Foot sinking
Into the dampness
And we walk along the side
Me following your brown bobbing hair
And you lead me across the boulders
To a cliff formed by dripping water
Where we toss our heavy, round rocks
Into the pool of smoky water below
Satisfying splashes
Making us laugh
Without getting wet
We clamber down the cliff
And skirt the water
Where I find a piece of painted pottery
Broken and beautiful
That I carry back up the cliff
Making my hand cold

On the way back
I lead, confidently
I know the way now
So when we get to that patch of sand
I step across my deep footprint,
Cover it with a new one
And in one pace
Cross the creek again
And tromp on the muddy smear marks
The trees around the creek
Provide my handholds
As I hoist myself up the bank
And you're close behind
My cell phone rings
And I'm back to reality