The familiar path
We used to walk
The dumb stories
We used to talk —
They never changed

Running in your
White canvas
Soaked in mud,
As I chased you  
Like a little spud.
Till the sunset’s cover—
Stood still in time

Between those little flowers
we picked up,
To the corsages you made—
We grew up.

Your canvas turned
to shiny loafers,
And from chasing you,
To walking down to you —
This feels timeless.

But this is not just till
The sunset’s cover —
But beyond, for
Every sunrise
With my lover

On our familiar path,
Honey,
Now let’s walk home.