adventuring

Those woods were ours
as fully as anything ever can be
and yet what I remember
more than the hours spent
playing house in the shade of arching trees
or dancing with fairies on the banks of the creek
that marked the edge of our world

is the day we got lost.

We must have traced the same path
a hundred times before that day, and I
still don’t know how we veered from it,

but finally you gave voice to the truth
we both were avoiding, and in your
bravest nine year old voice, you said,
“When you’re lost, you’re supposed to
pick a tree, walk to it, then pick another, so you
keep going in a straight line.”

And so we did, doing our best to keep our eyes
up as we skirted monstrous tangles of briars
trying not to think about what time it was
about what would happen if your mom arrived
and we weren’t there
or about what it would be like to spend the night
in the woods.

I could see your eyes welling up
with broken resolve, and I could feel
the panic rising in my own chest, and I
thought there was no way we could keep going, when

a mother’s angel voice called your name,
and then another, just as sweet, called mine.

Your sagging head snapped up and you
grabbed my hand, saying,
“We can follow their voices!”

The voices came from the right, just
on the other side of the wall of thorns
we’d been so careful to avoid, but now
we scrambled to find the most manageable route
as we heard the voices lower, then begin to retreat.

Finally we were clear, stumbling
into the yard on the far side of my parents’ house
and only then did we think to cry
to our mothers’ backs:
“Wait! Wait!”

Together they turned and we collapsed
into their arms, sobbing,
unable to explain why we hadn’t
called out sooner.

The next day, my father cut broad paths
criss-crossing his property.

We walked them all, amazed at how close
our favorite spots really were.

The magic was gone.

---

We have long since traded
dirty fingernails and muddy sneakers
for French tips and kitten heels;
the wilds of those woods
for the snarls of city streets.

When I get lost, I hear your brave and shaking voice
“Keep going in a straight line,”
and think maybe
I’ll call my mom.