Nature in Memory

Silence greets while the leaves whistle softens,

Slight wind is occasional but warm

Trudging through chopped bark and the soft dirt,

Dry sticks and leaves suggest a new season

When ambling below the archway of green,

We meet clear skies, not blue but still tranquil,

The realisation that this prepossessing moment will become but a photograph,

In the nostalgia that is a memory.