We used to walk here to this table
above the creek, take notebooks out
and pens of course, companionable,
we sat just here together, wrote
by trees and water: calm delight.
I see, returning to the spot,
it’s been repainted, this old table....
We used to walk
for twenty minutes, rest in quiet
right here beside the creek, and write.
Now here again alone, I’m able
to view the place at last — oh, sweet! —
we used to walk.
Submitted for dVerse Form for All: the Rondeau