Things I'm saving for later

I remember

the special kind of cool

that you get in churches

in the summertime,

walking alone in the aisles

with my hair down

and feet bare.

I remember

lying under a bush

with strawberries and a book

with the cool moss

pressing designs

into the skin of my elbows.

I remember

the heat from the fire

on my shins

and the cold air

on my calves.

I would come inside,

face flushed,

smelling like wood smoke.

I remember

it’s beautiful,

and someday,

I’ll remember it for you.