I remember that day,
blossom floated on a lake,
toy boats, twigs, set down near path
while half awake. Leaves barely out of bud.
Eyes shielded against bright light.
Swift soaring, bird song unidentified,
unusual, never heard before or since.
Someone called; a name skitted.
Fitful gestures of hands
arced into air then languidly smoothed out grass.
Thin shadows echoed summers larger themes,
half remembered in my half dream.
Robin hopped out of winter,
warm sun already past midday.
Her pale forearm waved,
gesture gentle and tender
as I remember Isabelle that day.