Fleeting Moments

I want a life defined by fleeting moments;
Setting the sunrise as my alarm clock,
Running, barefoot, through the woods with you.
Printing rings on tree trunks that even coasters can’t prevent,
Watching swirls of leaves chase each other in circles, midair,
Or witnessing the bare branches of trees continue to shake, swayed by habit, despite being void of leaves.
Streaking through cities even maps don’t recognise,
Messy, unmade hotel beds the only proof we were there.
Visiting pieces of history constructed atop ancient grounds,
Feeling the millions of untold stories reverberate under our soles with every step we take.
Fusing into the waves, playing hide-and-seek amongst the anemones,
Sprinting along ribbons of sand, flowing hair tousled by the ocean salt.
Snuggling in front of campfires, pulling apart melted marshmallow kisses,
Laughing ‘white rabbit’ to ward away the smoke, but not really meaning it,
Pretending we were dragons as we puffed misty breaths in the chilly air.
Spending midnights staring at the skies, wrapped in blankets of scattered leaves,
Stealing slivers of the moon with the blades of our gazes.
And I’d wish for these ephemeral moments never to end.
Take things for granted, and run out of fingers to count my blessings on,
And, at the end of it all, be left with nothing but memories.