Behind the gradient of the mountains
is a memory of you and me.
Of a similar cold and a forgotten warmth,
Of a river quietly growing in front of our eyes
as we watch it from a similar balcony.
Like we watch the children grow now.
But this side of the mountains is a lush green.
It will be greener tomorrow when it rains.
Until then, your feet will still warm mine,
and that’s all that matters.