Stones

All day long,
I am recalling
a long ago moment,
faded and vague.

All that is left
is younger you,
reaching for
a rumpled bundle of flowers
that you had somehow
secured to your bike.

All that is left
is younger me,
laughing in surprise,
heart wide open,
as I walk toward you
down that long aisle of steps
from the university library.

Weathered and worn,
these memories
are the foundation stones
on which we built
our together,
on which we’ve withstood
many a storm.

By Maria Brady-Smith

Photo by Mike Smith