“To
Robert Louis Stevenson”
By
Rebecca Berg
In
nightly trysts we met beneath my covers.
You
talked of climbing trees, friendly cows,
Apple
tarts and swinging, oh, so high.
We
explored the land of counterpane,
My flashlight blazing in the dark.
We
journeyed in your little boat down the rivers brown,
And walked along your winding country paths.
And
when my flashlight dimmed, I kept you by my side,
Your
words still glittering in my mind
As we drifted, every night, into your