First Anniversary

by Lesley Burt

We speed through the Teutoburger Wald,

feeling like a real dude and Bond girl,

as if the old Beetle were a Porsche.

 

Sunlight melts thick layers of new leaves

into bright pools among wavering shade.

Pathways run and hide among trees.

 

A clearing invites us to stop:

haul Wurst sandwiches, cake and Apfelsaft

up the slope; eat, kiss, mull over our year.

 

Clouds drift in. Green-and-gold

shivers, fades into pale olive; we hurry

back to the car, zoom home, make love;

 

give no thought to later anniversaries

when this becomes just a few snapshots

that one of us has forgotten.

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