Wildflower Mountains

We walk, my brother and his sons, through wildflowers
covering the hillsides of a mountain peak
We climb and talk, climb and talk,
reach the top to eat our lunch.
Cherries from my yard, cheese and bread.
My brother offers me a slice of apple.
My brother who rode me on his bike to school
who brought my little kids here -
who invited me to attend the birth of his first child,
who always hugs me like I am cherished
who sings with me at campfire time.
Who was the first to take me to the mountains.

We four walk back, down the long trail,
the verdant forest standing by as we pass.
Switch back by switch back,
dappled sunlight on moss.
Chatting easily I learn about the boys,
Our conversations all in stride, our stride down the mountain
of foot moving forward imprinting trail dust,
next foot, and the next.
There is no need for much, it is all here,
we four, walking a summer day away.