I imagine tracing your footsteps in "our" garden..
and I am reminded of this poem, by Arthur Rimbaud:
On the blue summer evenings, I shall go down the paths
Getting pricked by the corn, and crushing the grass
In a dream, I shall feel its coolness on my feet
And I shall let the wind bathe my bare head
I shall not speak, I shall think of nothing:
But endless love will mount in my soul
And I shall travel far, very far like a gypsy
Through the countryside, and I shall be as happy as if I am with you.
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